IBRARY 


E  UNIVERSITY 


OF  CAL  [FORNIA 


LOS  ANGELES 


WILLIAM  s.  MOVES 


* 

MEMORIES    OF 
FIFTY  YEARS 


BY 

LESTER  WALLACK 


WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION    BY 

LAURENCE    MUTTON 


WITH     POR1 


NEW-YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
1889 


Copyright,  1888-1889,  by 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 


College 
Library 

PtJ 
2.2,37 


The  best  talk,  proverbially,  is  that  which  escapes 
up  the  open  chimney,  and  cannot  be  repeated.  The 
following  papers  are  simply  the  result  of  an  effort 
to  catch  and  preserve  the  familiar  talk  of  a  veteran 
of  the  stage  on  its  way  to  the  fireplace  of  a  certain 
front  room  in  Thirty-fourth  Street,  New  York :  They 
do  not  pretend  to  be  complete  or  consecutive ;  or  even 
to  be  what  is  termed  literature:  merely  the  Social  and 
Professional  Memories  of  Half  a  Century,  affec- 
tionately inscribed  to  the  audiences  the  speaker  had 
addressed  in  other  days,  and  in  other  ways. 

Too  feeble  in  health  during  the  List  winter  of 
his  life  to  perform  the  manual  labor  of  writing  his 
reminiscences  or  even  to  attempt  studied  dictation, 
Mr.  Wallack  was  able  only  to  recount  in  familiar 
conversation  with  a  responsive  listener,  and  from 
time  to  time,  these  stories  and  incidents  of  bis  long 


viii  Preface. 

career,  which  were  taken  down  by  a  stenographer 
literally  and  without  omission.  His  sudden  death 
left  the  work  in  its  present  fragmentary  and  un- 
finished state,  and  although  he  revised  and  corrected 
the  greater  part  of  it,  certain  portions  he  never  saw 
after  they  were  transcribed.  The  matter  has  been 
arranged  as  far  as  possible  in  chronological  order, 
but  in  other  respecls  it  stands  here  as  it  fell  from 
his  lips. 

The  Biographical  Sketch,  the  Illustrations,  the 
Appendix,  and  the  Index  have  been  added  by  the 
Editor.  The  portraits  of  Mr.  Wallack  and  of  his 
friends  and  contemporaries  are  reproduced,  with 
one  or  two  exceptions,  from  original  drawings  and 
life  photographs,  nearly  all  of  which  have  never 
before  been  engraved.  The  List  of  Characters 
Played  by  Mr.  Lester  Wallack — some  three  hun- 
dred in  number — is  believed  to  be  complete.  It  his 
been  compiled  from  the  records  of  Wallack' s  Theatre 
and  from  many  files  of  old  playbills  in  different  col- 
lections, and  in  its  preparation  the  Editor  has  been 
assisted  by  Mr.  Henry  Edwards,  Mr.  John  Gilbert, 
Mr.  Joseph  N.  Ireland,  Mr.  Charles  C.  More  an,  Mr. 
William  Winter,  Mr.  Charles  E,  Wallack,  and  Mrs. 


Preface.  ix 

Lester  W attack,  to  whom  be  wishes  here  to  express 
his  thanks. 

How  much  of  the  charm  of  these  papers  has  been 
lost  in  the  transcription  only  those  familiar  with 
Mr.  W attack's  powers  js  a  story-teller  can  ever 
know.  The  warmth  and  the  brightness  of  the  nar- 
ration have  been  preserved,  but  the  accents,  the  mod- 
ulations, the  gesture  and  the  expression — a  very 
great  part,  if  not  the  best  part,  of  his  talk — the 
open  chimney  has  received  and  dispersed  forever. 

LAURENCE  MUTTON. 
"  The  Players." 

January,  1889. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


The  portraits  of  actors  and  actresses  are  from  rare  life  photographs 
in  the  collection  of  the  Editor. 


PAGE 

LESTER  WALLACK • Frontispiece. 

JAMES  WILLIAM  WALLACK 5 

JOHN  JOHNSTONE  (from  a  miniature) 9 

WALLACK'S   THEATRE,    BROADWAY   AT    BROOME 

STREET 15 

WALLACK'S     THEATRE,    BROADWAY     AT     THIR- 
TEENTH STREET 19 

WALLACK'S  THEATRE,  BROADWAY  AT  THIRTIETH 

STREET 25 

LESTER  WALLACK  AT  STAMFORD  —  1888 29 

FAC-SIMILE  OF  LESTER  WALLACK'S  CONTRACT  WITH 

BENJAMIN  WEBSTER 33 

HENRY  WALLACK 34 

NATIONAL    THEATRE,     LEONARD    AND    CHURCH 

STREETS 37 

LESTER  WALLACK  AT  THE  AGE  OF  THIRTY-TWO  ...  45 


xii  List   of  Illustrations. 


G.  V.  BROOKE 58 

CHARLES  J.  MATHEWS 62 

A.  H.  DAVENPORT 64 

MRS.  CHARLES  J.  MATHEWS  (Miss  Lizzie  Weston)  65 

LESTER  WALLACK  AS  LEON  DELMAR 67 

HARRY  BECKETT 73 

CHARLOTTE  CUSHMAN 76 

DION  BOUCICAULT 79 

TESTIMONIALS  TO  J.  W.  WALLACK  85 

CHARLES  KEAN 92 

FAC-SIMILE  OF  A  LETTER  FROM  EDMUND  KEAN  TO 

J.  W.  WALLACK 93 

MRS.  CHARLES  KEAN ...  96 

DOUGLAS  JERROLD 97 

FAC-SIMILE  OF  A  NOTE  FROM  HARRIET  MELLON 

COUTTS  TO  EDMUND  KEAN 99 

BURTON'S  THEATRE,  CHAMBERS  STREET 101 

WILLIAM  E.  BURTON 103 

F.  S.  CHANFRAU 105 

SIGNOR  DE  BEGNIS 109 

THOMAS  HAMBLIN 1 16 

C.  W.  CLARKE 117 

JAMES  W.  WALLACK,  JR 1 18 

BULWER-LYTTON 123 

W.  C.  MACREADY 125 

GEORGE  H.  BARRETT 133 

BROADWAY  THEATRE,  NEAR  ANTHONY  STREET  135 

THOMAS  HADAWAY 138 


List   of  Illustrations.  xiii 


PAGE 

GEORGE  VANDENHOFF 139 

JOHN  DYOTT 141 

THOMAS  PLACIDE 142 

WILLIAM  RUFUS  BLAKE 143 

GEORGE  JORDAN 145 

MRS.  VERNON 146 

CHARLES  WALCOT  (the  elder) 148 

MARY  GANNON 1 50 

LAURA  KEENE 151 

MRS.  F.  B.  CONWAY 152 

MRS.  JOHN  HOEY 153 

MADELINE  HENRIQUES 155 

CHARLES  FISHER 155 

AGNES  ROBERTSON  BOUCICAULT 156 

WILLIAM  J.  REYNOLDS 156 

JOSEPH  JEFFERSON 157 

TOM  TAYLOR 159 

C.  W.  COULDOCK 1 60 

SARA  STEVENS 161 

CHARLES  PETERS 161 

E.  A.  SOTHERN 163 

TOM  ROBERTSON 1 70 

H.  J.  MONTAGUE 1 74 

WILLIAM  FARREN 179 

JOHN  GILBERT 181 

SAMUEL  LOVER 187 

TYRONE  POWER 1 89 

F.  B.  CONWAY 193 


xiv  List  of  Illustrations. 


PAGE 

SKKTCU  OK  J.  W.  WALLACK  IN  CHARACTER,  BY 

MlLLAlS 211 

FAC-SIMILE  or  THE  HILL  OF  THE  OPENING 
NIGHT  OF  THE  BROADWAY  THEATRE,  AND 
OF  LESTER  WALLACK'S  FIRST  APPEARANCE 
IN  AMERICA At  End  of  Volume. 


MEMORIES  OF  FIFTY  YEARS 


LESTER  WALLACK. 


THAT  dramatic  talent  is  inherent  is  shown  in 
the  history  of  the  three  great  theatrical  families 
of  this  country — the  Booths,  the  Jeffersons  and 
the  Wallacks.  Lester  Wallack,  the  subject  of  this 
present  sketch,  is  the  last  of  a  long  line  of  well- 
graced  actors ;  and  as  a  mere  study  of  heredity 
the  story  of  his  descent  cannot  fail  to  interest  even 
those  who  have  no  interest  in  the  affairs  of  the 
stage. 

William  Wallack,  the  first  of  the  name  of 
whom  there  is  any  record,  was  an  actor  and  a 
vocalist  at  Astley's  Amphitheatre  in  London, 
towards  the  end  of  the  last  century.  He  married 
Elizabeth  Field,  at  one  time  a  leading  member 
of  Garrick's  company,  and  the  mother,  by  a 


2  Lester  Wallack. 

former  husband,  Dr.  Granger,  of  Mrs.  Jones, 
who  played  at  the  Park  Theatre,  New  York,  in 
the  season  of  1805-6,  who  was  called,  because 
of  her  beauty,  "the  Jordan  of  America,"  and 
whose  two  daughters,  Mrs.  Edmund  Simpson 
and  Mrs.  Bancker,  were  themselves  favorite 
actresses  in  New  York. 

William  Wallack  and  Elizabeth  Field  Granger, 
his  wife,  had  four  children  who  left  their  marks 
upon  the  British  and  the  American  stage — Hen- 
ry, James  William,  Mary  and  Elizabeth.  Mary 
Wallack  —  Mrs.  Stanley  —  Mrs.  Hill — made  her 
American  debut  at  the  Chatham  Theatre,  New 
York,  in  June,  1827.  She  remained  there  for  a 
season  or  two,  retired  into  private  life,  and  died 
in  New  Orleans  in  1834.  Elizabeth  Wallack  — 
Mrs.  Pincott — never  came  to  this  country.  She 
was  the  mother  of  Mrs.  Alfred  Wigan. 

Henry  Wallack,  the  oldest  of  the  family,  was 
born  in  London  in  1790.  He  is  believed  by  Mr. 
Joseph  N.  Ireland  to  have  appeared  in  this 
country  as  early  as  1818,  although  the  bills  of 
the  Anthony  Street  Theatre,  New  York,  record 
"  his  first  appearance  in  America  "  at  that  house 


Lester  Wallack. 


on  the  ninth  of  May,  1821,  and  in  the  part  ot 
Young  Norval.  He  was  very  prominently  before 
the  public  for  almost  fifty  years  ;  and  as  an  actor 
and  a  man  he  was  deservedly  popular.  He  played 
an  unusually  wide  range  of  parts,  from  Hamlet  to 
Dandy  Dinmont,  and  in  his  later  years  he  excelled 
in  such  characters  as  Sir  Peter  Teazle  and  Sir 
Anthony  Absolute.  He  died  in  New  York  in  1870. 
Henry  Wallack  was  the  father  of  James  William 
Wallack,  Jr.,  and  of  two  daughters,  Julia  and 
Fanny.  "  Young  Jim  Wallack,"  as  he  was  affec- 
tionately called,  is  still  pleasantly  remembered 
here  for  his  admirable  performance  of  Fagin  in 
"Oliver  Twist,"  ofMercutio,  of  Mathias  in  "The 
Bells,"  of  Leon  de  Bourbon  in  "The  Man  in  the 
Iron  Mask,"  of  Henry  D unbar  and  of  other  parts. 
He  was  born  in  London  in  1818,  came  first 
to  this  country  in  1838,  and  died  here  in 
1873.  Fanny  and  Julia  Wallack  made  their 
debuts  together  in  "  The  Hunchback  "  as  Helen 
and  Julia  —  to  the  Master  Walter  of  their  father 
— at  the  New  Chatham  Theatre,  afterwards 
Purdy's  National  Theatre,  in  the  Bowery,  New 
York,  on  the  twenty-third  of  December,  1839. 


Lester  Wallack. 


Fanny  Wallack  —  Mrs.  Charles  Moorehouse  — 
became  a  decided  favorite  with  the  public,  and 
died  in  Edinburgh,  Scotland,  in  1856.  Julia 
Wallack  married  William  Hoskin,  better  known 
in  England  than  in  America,  and  subsequently 
went  upon  the  lyric  stage  in  London  as  "  Miss 
Julia  Harland."  She  was  at  the  Park  Theatre, 
New  York,  in  1842. 

James  William  Wallack,  the  second  son  of 
William  Wallack  and  the  father  of  Lester  Wal- 
lack, was,  to  paraphrase  the  remark  of  a  biog- 
rapher of  the  famous  Brown  family  of  Scotland, 
in  regard  to  the  author  of  "  Rab  and  His 
Friends,"  the  Apex  of  all  the  Wallacks  !  So 
long  as  he  lived  he  was  Mister  Wallack,  the 
Wallack,  WALLACK  himself ;  and  since  his 
death,  and  the  accession  of  his  son  and  successor, 
he  is  always  styled  "  the  Elder  Wallack  "  by 
those  who  have  known  both  father  and  son.  He 
was  born  in  London  in  1795  ;  he  appeared  in 
the  spectacle  of  "  Blue  Beard,"  at  the  house  after- 
wards known  as  the  Surrey  Theatre,  when  he  was 
but  four  years  of  age ;  and  before  he  was  fifteen 
he  had  filled  an  engagement  of  two  years  at 


JAMES  WILLIAM   WALLACK. 


Lester  Wallack. 


Drury  Lane.  His  first  success,  as  a  man,  was 
made  at  this  latter  house  in  1812,  when  he 
played  Laertes  to  the  Hamlet  of  Elliston ;  and 
he  soon  became  an  acknowledged  favorite  in  the 
British  metropolis  in  such  romantic  parts  as 
Rob  Roy,  Rolla  and  Roderick  Dim ;  while  as 
Petruchio,  Mercutio,  Benedick  and  the  like  he 
was  regarded  as  the  only  possible  successor  of 
Charles  Kemble.  He  made  his  first  appearance 
in  the  United  States  at  the  Park  Theatre,  New 
York,  September  seventh,  1 8 1 8  ;  and  he  was  again 
in  this  country  in  1822,  in  1832,  and  from  1834 
to  1836.  In  1837  ne  became  manager  of  the 
National  Theatre,  on  the  corner  of  Leonard  and 
Church  Streets,  New  York,  which  was  thus  the 
original  "  Wallack's,"  although  it  never  bore  that 
name.  Mr.  Wallack  was  at  the  Park  Theatre, 
under  Mr.  Simpson's  management,  in  the  season 
of  1843—4;  and  in  1852  he  assumed  control  of 
Brougham's  Lyceum,  which  he  called  "Wal- 
lack's." In  1 86 1  he  built  the  second  Wallack's 
Theatre  on  Broadway  at  Thirteenth  Street,  and 
at  the  close  of  the  season  of  1862  he  bowed  his 
acknowledgment  of  calls  for  the  manager,  and 


8  Lester  Wallack. 


was  never  seen  in  any  public  capacity  again.  He 
died  in  New  York  on  Christmas  Day,  1864. 

James  William  Wallack  was  educated  in  the 
best  dramatic  school,  that  of  experience,  and 
with  the  most  accomplished  actors  as  his  tutors 
and  models.  He  had  seen  play,  if  he  had  not 
played  with  them,  such  masters  of  his  art  as 
Kean,  Kemble,  Bannister,  Elliston,  Mathews  (the 
Elder),  Cooke,  Fawcett,  Incledon,  Macready, 
Booth,  Liston,  Young,  Mrs.  Jordan,  Miss  Mellon 
and  Mrs.  Siddons.  He  inherited  beauty  and 
grace  of  person,  quick  perception,  a  finely  modu- 
lated and  unusually  sweet  voice,  and  a  decided 
genius  for  his  profession.  As  Shylock,  Don 
Cczsar,  Martin  Heywood  and  The  Scholar  he 
had  no  peer. 

In  1817  Mr.  Wallack  married  the  daughter  of 
John  Johnstone,  a  very  celebrated  Irish  comedian 
and  vocalist,  familiarly  known  as  "  Irish  "  John- 
stone,  and  one  of  the  most  prominent  social  and 
dramatic  figures  in  London  in  the  days  of  the 
regency.  Mrs.  Wallack  came  to  America  with 
her  husband  in  1818,  and  frequently  thereafter; 
but  she  died  in  London  in  1851.  As  the  grand- 


JOHN   JOHNSTONE. 
[FROM   A   MINIATURE.] 


Lester  Wallack.  1 1 


son  of  his  grandparents,  paternal  and  maternal, 
as  the  son  of  his  father,  the  nephew  of  his  uncles 
and  his  aunts,  and  the  cousin  of  his  cousins, 
Lester  Wallack  certainly  could  claim  blood  as 
blue  as  that  which  flows  in  the  veins  of  all  the 
dramatic  Howards. 

John  Johnstone  Wallack,  known  to  the  public 
as  Lester  Wallack,  the  eldest  son  of  the  Elder 
Wallack,  was  born  in  the  city  of  New  York 
on  the  night  of  the  thirty-first  of  December, 

1819,  or  on  the  morning  of  the  first  of  January, 

1820,  so  near  the  stroke  of  midnight  that  he 
was  never  sure  whether  he  came  in  with  the  New 
Year  or  was  left  by  the  Old  ;  and  it  was  not  until 
his  marriage  in   1848  that  he  definitely  adopted 
the    latter    date,  because    the    first  of   January 
chanced   to   be   the  birthday  of  his  wife.      Con- 
cerning his  early  professional  life,  which  began  in 
Great  Britain,  he  has  spoken  freely  and  fully  in 
the  pages  to  which  these  are  but  a  brief  introduc- 
tion. His  first  appearance  in  the  United  States  was 
made  at  the  Broadway  Theatre,  New  York,  on 
the  night  of  the  twenty-seventh  of  September 
1847,  m  the  farce  of  "  Used  Up,"  when  he  re- 


12  Lester  Wallack. 


tained  the  name  of  John  Wallack  Lester,  which 
he  had  previously  assumed  on  the  other  side 
of  the  Atlantic.  The  rare  bill  of  this  entertain- 
ment, which  was  also  the  opening  night  of  the 
theatre,  reproduced  in  fac-simile  at  the  end  of 
this  volume,  is  from  the  collection  of  Douglas 
Taylor,  Esqr.,  of  New  York. 

Mr.  Lester's  second  part  was  that  of  the  Vis- 
count de  Ligny  in  "  The  Captain  of  the  Watch," 
on  the  fourth  of  October;  and  during  this  season 
his  name  appears  as  Captain  Absolute,  Major 
Murray  in  "  The  Jacobite,"  Sir  Frederick  Blount 
in  "  Money,"  Osric, —  to  the  Hamlet  of  Mr.  Mur- 
doch,— Frederick  in  "  Ernestine,"  Littleton  Coke, 
Dazzle,  Mercutio,  Count  de  Jolimaitre  in  Mrs. 
Mowatt's  "  Fashion,"  and  many  more.  The 
season  ended  on  the  fourth  of  July,  1848,  and  on 
the  seventeenth  of  that  month  he  appeared  at  the 
Chatham  Theatre  as  Don  Ccesar  de  Bazan,  and 
later  as  Dick  Dashall  and  Robert  Macaire.  On 
the  twenty-eighth  of  August  of  the  same  year 
Edwin  Forrest  played  Othello  at  the  Broadway 
Theatre,  when  Mr.  Lester  was  his  Cassio ;  and 
the  drama  of  "  Monte-Cristo,"  with  Mr.  Lester 


Lester  Wallack.  13 


as  Edmund  Dantes,  was  produced  on  the  even- 
ing of  December  twenty-fifth  as  a  Christmas 
spectacle.  It  ran  for  fifty  consecutive  nights. 

Mr.  Lester  made  his  first  appearance  at  the 
Bowery  Theatre,  and  as  Don  C<zsar  de  Bazan, 
on  the  seventeenth  of  September,  1849.  His  own 
dramatization  of  Dumas's  "Three  Guardsmen" 
was  produced  on  that  stage  on  the  twelfth  of 
November,  with  Mr.  Lester  as  d' Artagnan,  James 
William  Wallack,  Jr.,  as  At/ios,  John  Gilbert  as 
Porthos,  and  James  Dunn  as  Aramis.  "  The 
Four  Musketeers,  or  Ten  Years  After,"  also  by 
Mr.  Lester,  was  presented  on  the  twenty-fourth 
of  December.  On  the  second  of  September,  1850, 
Mr.  Lester  joined  the  company  of  Burton's 
Chambers  Street  Theatre,  and  made  his  first  ap- 
pearance on  that  stage  as  Charles  Surface.  He 
remained  under  Mr.  Burton's  management  until 
June,  1852,  playing,  among  many  others,  such 
familiar  parts  as  Harry  Dornton,  Steerforth, 
Citizen  Sangfroid  and  Sir  Andrew  Aguecheek. 

Wallack's  Lyceum,  formerly  Brougham's  Ly- 
ceum, and  later  Wallack's  Theatre,  on  the  west 
side  of  Broadway,  and  a  few  feet  south  of  Broome 


14  Lester  Wallack. 


Street,  New  York,  was  formally  opened  on  the 
eighth  of  September,  1852,  with  "The  Way  to 
Get  Married  "  and  "  The  Boarding  School,"  Mr. 
Lester  playing  Tangent  in  the  former,  and  Lieut. 
Varlcy  in  the  second  piece.  It  was  finally  closed 
as  Wallack's  Theatre  on  the  twenty-ninth  of 
April,  1 86 1,  when  Mr.  Lester  played  Randall 
McGregor  in  "  Jessie  Brown,"  and  Mr.  Bromley 
in  "  Simpson  &  Co.,"  and  when  Mr.  Wallack  de- 
livered a  few  touching  words  of  farewell  to  the 
house,  and  of  invitation  to  his  friends  and  patrons 
to  meet  him  the  next  season  in  his  new  home, 
uptown.  Those  nine  years  of  Mr.  Wallack's 
lesseeshtp  of  the  old  theatre  were  very  eventful 
years  in  the  history  of  the  drama  in  New  York. 
He  had  surrounded  himself  with  the  best  stock 
company  in  America,  if  not  in  the  English-speak- 
ing world,  and  his  influence  upon  the  stage  and 
its  literature  is  still  felt.  At  this  house  Mr.  Lester 
played  many  of  his  old  parts,  and  created  many 
new  ones:  Don  Pedro in  "  Much  Ado,"  Orlando, 
Bassanio,  Massaroni  in  "  The  Brigand,"  Alfred 
Evelyn,  Charles  Torrcns,  Reuben  Glenroy  and 
Rover  among  the  standard  plays ;  while  he  added 


Lester  Wallack.  17 


to  his  list  of  characters  Count  Beuzcval  in 
"Pauline  "  (March seventh,  1852);  The  Debilitated 
Cousin  in  "  Bleak  House  "  (October  thirteenth, 
1853);  Lord  Fipley  in  "Love  and  Money" 
(November  seventh,  1853);  Rupert  Wolfe  in 
"The  Game  of  Life"  (December twelfth,  1853)  ; 
Harry  Jasper -in  "The  Bachelor  of  Arts"  (January 
twelfth,  1854);  De  Ramean  in  his  own  comedy, 
"  Two  to  One,  or  the  King's  Visit  "  (December 
sixth,  1854);  Paul  Weldon  in  "The  Game  of 
Love"  (September  twelfth,  1855);  Peveril  in  a 
comedy  from  his  own  pen  entitled  "  First  Im- 
pressions" (September  seventeenth,  1856);  Ran- 
dall McGregor  in  "  Jessie  Brown  "  (February 
twenty-second,  1858);  Arthur  Morris  in  "Ameri- 
cans in  Paris"  (May  eighteenth,  1858);  Waverley 
in  "  Marriage  a  Lottery  "  (October  eighteenth, 
1858) ;  Leon  Dclmar  in  his  own  drama  of  "The 
Veteran"  (January  seventeenth,  1859);  Frank 
Hawthorne  in  "  Men  of  the  Day  "  (May  sixteenth, 
1859)  5  Felix FeatJierly  in  "  Everybody's  Friend" 
(December  seventh,  1859);  Manuel  in  his  own 
adaptation  of  "The  Romance  of  a  Poor  Young 
Man"  (January  twenty-fourth,  1860);  Tom 


1 8  Lester  Wallack. 


Dexter  in  "  The  Overland  Route "  (May  four- 
teenth, 1860);  and  Wyndham  Otis  in  his  own 
"Central  Park"  (February  fourteenth,  1861). 

At  this  house  Miss  Laura  Keene  made  her 
American  debut  September  twentieth,  1852,  and 
Mrs.  Hoey  reappeared  upon  the  stage  January 
thirtieth,  1854.  Mr.  Sothern  —  as  "Mr.  Douglas 
Stuart  "  — joined  the  regular  company  September 
ninth,  1854;  Henry  Placide and  George  Holland, 
September  twelfth,  1855  ;  Miss  Mary  Gannon, 
October  fifteenth,  1855;  Mrs.  John  Wood, 
December  twenty-fifth,  1856;  Miss  Effie  Ger- 
mon,  September  twentieth,  1858;  and  Miss 
Madeleine  Henriquez  made  "  her  first  appear- 
ance on  any  stage"  December  third,  1860.  The 
name  of  Mr.  Theodore  Moss,  so  intimately  con- 
nected with  that  of  Mr.  Lester  Wallack  for  so 
many  years,  appears  in  the  bills  as  a  member  of 
the  department  of  the  treasury,  from  the  opening 
night.  Colonel  Delmar  in  "  The  Veteran  "  was 
the  last  original  part  played  by  the  Elder  Wal- 
lack. His  last  appearance,  as  an  actor,  was  as 
Benedick  in  "Much  Ado  About  Nothing,"  at  this 
first  Wallack's  Theatre,  May  fourteenth,  1859. 


Lester  Wallack.  21 


The  story  of  the  second  Wallack's  Theatre,  on 
the  north-east  corner  of  Broadway  and  Thir- 
teenth Street,  must  be  as  briefly  told.  It  was 
built  for  Mr.  Wallack,  and  was  opened  to  the 
public  on  September  twenty-fifth,  1861,  with  a 
new  comedy  by  Tom  Taylor  called  "  The  New 
President."  Mr.  Lester  assumed  the  part  of  De 
La  Rampe,  and  his  name  appeared  upon  the  bills 
as  Mr.  Lester  Wallack.  He  was  the  active 
manager  of  the  establishment  from  the  beginning, 
and  became  sole  proprietor  upon  his  father's 
death  in  1864.  He  collected  about  him  a  very 
strong  company  of  comedians,  and  for  years  he 
sustained  the  great  reputation  of  the  house  and 
of  the  name  it  bore.  He  himself  appeared  in 
many  of  the  old  comedies,  and  was  the  central 
figure  in  many  plays  entirely  new  to  the  Amer- 
ican stage,  or  to  any  stage. 

Among  his  original  parts  at  this  house  may  be 
mentioned  Captain  Walter  Harris  in  "  The  King 
of  the  Mountains"  (October  fifteenth,  1861); 
Mr.  Union  in  "  Bosom  Friends "  (September 
eighteenth,  1862) ;  Lord  Henry  de  Vcre  in  "  My 
Noble  Son-in-Law"  (April  seventh,  1863); 


22  Lester  Wallack. 


Elliott  Grey  in  his  own  popular  drama  of  "  Rose- 
dale  "  (September  thirtieth,  1863)  ;  Frank  Rock- 
ford  or  Lancia  in  "  Pure  Gold  "  (February  ninth, 
1864);  Captain  Bland  in  "Captain  Bland" 
(May  thirtieth,  1864);  Don  Ravages  in  "The 
Compact"  (October  thirteenth,  1864);  Vacil  in 
"  How  She  Loves  Him "  (December  twelfth, 
1864);  Hugh  Chalcote  in  "Ours"  (December 
nineteenth,  1866);  Jack  Poyntz  in  "School" 
(March  fifteenth,  1868);  Colonel  John  White  in 
"  Home  "  (December  eighth,  1869)  >  Jack  Ran- 
dall in  "Birth"  (March  twenty-seventh,  1871); 
John  GartJi  in  "  John  Garth  "  (December  fif- 
teenth, 1871);  Gibson  Greene  in  "Married  in 
Haste"  (January  twelfth,  1876);  Chester  Dcla- 
field  and  Mark  Delafield  in  "  Twins  "  (April 
twelfth,  1876) ;  Hugh  Trevor  in  "  All  For  Her" 
(January  twenty-second,  1877);  Adonis  Ever- 
green in  "  My  Awful  Dad  "  (March  tenth,  1877) ; 
Henry  Beauclcrc  in  "  Diplomacy  "  (April  first, 
1878);  and  Prosper  Couramont  in  "A  Scrap  of 
Paper"  (March  tenth,  1879);  making  his  final 
appearance  upon  that  stage,  in  that  part,  at  the 
close  of  the  regular  season,  April  eleventh,  1881, 


Lester  Wallack.  23 


when  after  a  management  of  twenty  years  the 
theatre  passed  out  of  his  hands. 

During  this  long  period  some  of  the  brightest 
and  most  healthy  of  modern  plays  were  produced 
at  this  house,  and  many  of  the  most  deservedly 
popular  actors  and  actresses  in  America  trod  its 
boards.  Charles  Fisher's  name  first  appears  on 
its  bills  September  twenty-fifth,  1861  ;  Mark 
Smith's,  March  seventeenth,  1862  ;  John  Gilbert's, 
October  twenty-second,  1862  ;  Edwin  L.  Daven- 
port's, September  twenty-first,  1865  5  James  W. 
Wallack,  Jr.'s,  November  twenty- third,  1865  ; 
Frederick  Robinson's,  December  twelfth,  1865; 
Joseph  B.  Folk's,  September  twenty-fifth,  1867; 
Miss  Emily  Mestayer's,  September  twenty- third, 
1 868 ;  Charles  James  Mathews's,  April  eighteenth, 
1872;  Harry  Beckett's,  September  thirtieth, 
1873;  H.  J.  Montague's,  October  fifth,  1874; 
and  Henry  Edwards's  November  seventh,  1879. 
"Oliver  Twist,"  with  its  wonderful  cast,  includ- 
ing James  W.  Wallack,  Jr.,  as  Fagin,  Edwin  L. 
Davenport  as  Bill  Sikes,  Miss  Eytinge  as  Nancy, 
and  George  Holland  as  Bumble,  was  produced  on 
December  twenty-seventh,  1867;  while  "The 


24  Lester  Wallack. 


Shaughraun "  began  its  career  of  success  on 
November  fourteenth,  1874.  Mrs.  Hoey  retired 
finally  from  the  stage  in  April,  1864;  Miss  Mary 
Gannon  made  her  last  appearance  (as  Mary 
Nctley  in  "  Ours ")  January  twenty-seventh, 
1868  ;  Mrs.  Vernon  was  last  seen  by  the  public, 
who  loved  her  so  sincerely,  on  April  third,  1869 
(as  Mrs.  Sutcliffe  in  "School  ");  and  William  R. 
Floyd  died  in  November,  1880. 

Mr.  Wallack  broke  ground  for  the  third  and 
last  Wallack's  Theatre,  on  the  north-east  corner 
of  Broadway  and  Thirtieth  Street,  on  the  twenty- 
first  of  May,  1881,  and  opened  it  with  "The 
School  for  Scandal  "  January  fourth,  1882.  His 
name  was  not  in  the  bills,  but  he  made  a  short 
address.  He  first  appeared  as  an  actor  upon 
that  stage  on  the  third  of  January,  1883,  when  he 
revived  the  comedy  of  "Ours."  He  created  the 
part  of  Colonel  Crichton  in  "  Impulse  "  February 
sixteenth,  1885,  and  the  part  of  Walter  Trevill- 
ian  in  "  Valerie  "  February  sixteenth,  1886;  and 
he  made  his  last  appearance  there  in  "  The  Cap- 
tain of  the  Watch  "  May  first,  1886.  Although 
actively  engaged  in  its  management  until  October, 


Lester  Wallack.  27 


1887,  he  appeared  there  but  rarely,  playing 
"  star  engagements  "  in  other  cities  of  the  Union, 
and  in  other  theatres  in  New  York,  notably  in 
the  Park  Theatre,  on  Broadway  near  Twenty- 
second  Street,  where  he  was  the  original  Colonel 
W.  W.  Woodd'\i\  "The  Colonel"  January  four- 
teenth, 1882  ;  and  while  Wallack's  Theatre  was 
Wallack's  Theatre  so  long  as  he  lived,  it  was 
Wallack's  in  little  more  than  in  name,  and  many 
of  its  traditions  had  departed. 

Mr.  Wallack's  last  appearance  as  an  actor 
upon  any  stage  was  at  the  Grand  Opera  House, 
New  York,  where  he  played  Young  Marlow, 
with  Mr.  Gilbert  and  Madame  Ponisi,  his  old 
and  faithful  friends,  as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hardcastle, 
May  twenty-ninth,  1886.  He  was  last  seen  of 
the  public  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House, 
New  York,  May  twenty-first,  1888,  when  he 
made  a  short  speech  between  the  acts  of  "  Ham- 
let," played  in  his  honor  with  the  strongest  cast 
the  tragedy  has  ever  seen  in  America.  Mr. 
Booth  was  Hamlet,  Mr.  Barrett  The  Ghost,  Mr. 
Mayo  The  King,  Mr.  Gilbert  Polonitis,  Mr. 
Plimpton  Laertes,  Mr.  Wheelock  The  First 


28  Lester  Wallack. 


Actor,  Mr.  Milnes  Levick  The  Second  Actor,  Mr. 
Jefferson  and  Mr.  Florence  The  Gravediggers, 
Mr.  Edwards  The  Priest,  Madame  Modjeska 
Ophelia,  Miss  Kellogg  Gertrude,  and  Miss  Rose 
Coghlan  The  Player  Queen.  This  was  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  and  most  pleasant  events  in  Mr. 
Wallack's  professional  life,  and  the  last  words  he 
ever  uttered  in  the  public  ear,  containing  a 
prophecy,  never,  alas  !  to  be  fulfilled,  are  here 
repeated :  "  I  bid  you  all  good-night.  But 
mind,  this  is  not  a  farewell,  for  if  it  please  God 
to  once  more  give  me  control  over  this  rebell- 
ious limb  I  may  trouble  you  again.  With  these 
few  sincere  words  I  bid  you  a  respectful  good- 
night, and  leave  the  stage  to  '  Hamlet '  and  to 
you." 

He  died  at  his  country  home  near  Stamford, 
Connecticut,  on  the  sixth  of  September,  1888,  and 
was  buried  in  the  cemetery  of  Woodlawn  on  the 
ninth  of  the  same  month.  With  him  died  the 
name  of  Wallack,  which  in  his  own  art  and  in 
his  own  person  he  did  so  much  to  adorn.  With 
him,  too,  died  Young-  Marlozu,  Jack  Absolute, 
Young  Wilding,  Rover,  Alfred  Evelyn,  Hugh 


LESTER    WALLACK   AT   STAMFORD  — 1888. 


Lester  Wallack.  31 


Chalcote  and  Elliott  Grey.  For  forty  years,  as 
actor  and  manager,  he  was  one  of  the  most 
prominent  figures  upon  the  American  stage ; 
and  his  place  there  is  no  one  to  fill. 


MEMORIES  OF  FIFTY  YEARS. 
CHAPTER  I. 

MY  first  experience  on  any  stage  was  at 
an  establishment  at  Mitcham,  in  Surrey,  called 
Baron  House  Academy,  a  fine  old  mansion 
which  had  become  a  private  school.  Colman's 
"Heir  at  Law"  was  produced  immediately  be- 
fore the  beginning  of  the  summer  holidays,  upon 
an  improvised  stage  in  the  school-room,  with 
the  English  usher  as  prompter  and  general  man- 
ager. As  the  son  of  "  the  celebrated  Mr.  Wai- 
lack,"  it  was  felt  proper,  naturally,  that  I  should 
take  part  and,  between  the  acts,  I  was  billed  for 
the  speech  from  Home's  tragedy  of  "Douglas" 
—  "  My  name  is  Norval"  —  although  I  was  only 
ten  years  of  age.  I  was  dressed  in  a  red  tunic 
trimmed  with  fur,  white  trousers  and  red  shoes, 


34 


Memories   of  Fifty  Years. 


and  carried  a  round  wooden  shield  and  a  wooden 
sword  painted  blue.  As  for  the  lines,  I  suppose 
I  must  have  painted  them  red.  How  I  spoke 
them  Heaven  only  knows.  I  only  remember  that 
I  never  missed  a  syllable. 

My  next  appearance  was  at  another  school 
performance  given  at  Brighton,  when  I  was 
about  fifteen  years  old.  This  was 
at  a  seminary  kept  by  a  Mr. 
Allfree,  which  was  then  rather 
celebrated,  and  the  play  was  "  Pi- 
zarro."  At  that  time  my  uncle, 
Henry  Wallack,  was  stage-man- 
ager at  Covent  Garden.  Of  course 
all  the  boys  were  racking  their 
brains  and  ransacking  the  shops 
to  find  what  they  should  wear. 
My  mother  applied  to  my  uncle,  who  sent  down  a 
lot  of  splendid  properties,  a  leopard-skin  robe  and 
all  the  necessary  things  for  Rolla,  which  were 
of  course  very  much  too  large  for  me,  particu- 
larly the  sandals.  I  remember  nothing  of  the 
play  except  that  it  went  off  with  a  great  deal  of 
applause ;  but  I  do  remember  that  the  end  was 


HENRY    WALLACK. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  35 


a  most  undignified  one  for  me,  because  as  I  fell 
dead  I  fell  just  exactly  where  the  curtain  must 
come  down  on  me ;  and  when  it  began  to  de- 
scend, one  of  the  soldiers,  and  the  boy  who  played 
Alonzo,  stepped  forward,  and  taking  me,  one  by 
one  leg  and  one  by  the  other,  dragged  me  up  the 
stage;  a  bit  of  new  "business"  which  was  greatly 
appreciated  if  I  might  judge  from  the  "  roars"  in 
front. 

On  returning  from  my  first  visit  to  America, 
which  had  been  a  purely  social  one,  and  before 
it  was  quite  determined  whether  I  should  finally 
go  into  the  army  or  not,  my  father,  who  was 
about  to  set  out  upon  a  starring  tour  to  Bath 
and  other  provincial  towns,  proposed  that  I 
should  join  him,  partly  as  a  companion  and 
partly  to  support  him  in  such  parts  as  could 
safely  be  entrusted  to  one  who  could  only  be 
looked  upon  as  an  amateur;  and  the  first  ap- 
pearance I  made  on  any  stage  after  I  arrived  at 
manhood  was  as  Angela  in  a  play  called  "Tor- 
tesa  the  Usurer,"  by  N.  P.  Willis.  I  had  seen 
it  brought  out  before,  when  my  father  had  the 
National  Theatre  in  New  York.  The  character 


36  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

of  Tortcsa  was  written  for  him,  and  when  he 
went  over  to  England  he  took  the  play  with  him 
and  starred  in  it.  The  character  I  assumed  was 
originally  acted  by  Edmon  S.  Conner,  then  his 
"  leading  juvenile." 

During  this  tour  I  played  that  part,  Macduff 
to  his  Macbeth,  and  Richmond  to  his  Richard 
III.,  and  these,  I  think,  constituted  the  main 
portion  of  my  endeavors  at  that  time.  This  was 
just  after  the  burning  of  the  National  Theatre 
in  1839.  I  had  done  enough,  inexperienced  as 
I  was  (so  my  father  told  me  afterwards),  to  show 
that,  if  ever  the  profession  should  become  a  ne- 
cessity to  me,  I  had  a  certain  amount  of  prom- 
ise;  that  in  fact  I  had  "the  gift."  During  this 
engagement  I  assumed  the  name  of  "Allan 
Field,"  which  had  belonged  to  a  relative  of  the 
family. 

I  hesitated  long  before  I  made  up  my  mind  to 
become  an  actor;  but  when  I  finally  did  so,  I 
determined  that  I  should  know  my  profession 
from  beginning  to  end,  and  should  depend  upon 
it  for  my  sole  support;  and  the  consequence 
was  that  my  poor  mother  often  cried  in  those 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  39 

early  days  because  I  would  not  let  her  send  me 
a  five-pound  note  now  and  then,  to  add  to  my 
weekly  stipend  of  twenty  shillings  ! 

I  was  resolved  that  whatever  success  I  might 
make  I  would  owe  to  myself,  and  not  to  my 
father's  name ;  therefore,  as  Mr.  Lester  I  played 
the  Earl  of  Rochester  in  the  town  of  Rochester, 
in  a  comedy  called  "  Charles  II.,"  by  John  How- 
ard Payne.  I  had  a  very  good  part  —  the  sec- 
ond part  of  the  piece.  Charles  Kemble  was 
King  Charles,  Fawcett  playing  Edward  and 
Jones  the  Earl  of  Rochester  in  the  original  cast, 
at  Covent  Garden.  The  season  at  Rochester 
was  a  short  one,  as  my  uncle  Henry  Wallack, 
who  had  taken  the  theatre  as  an  experiment, 
had  it  for  only  a  few  weeks.  This  was  my 
first  professional  engagement.  My  salary  was 
one  pound  a  week ;  and  I  was  paid  about  as 
punctually  as  were  actors  in  small  companies  at 
that  time.  Three  pounds  a  week  was  a  good 
salary  in  a  country  theatre,  and  five  pounds  was 
enormous.  When  we  got  to  the  larger  provin- 
cial cities  salaries  were  a  little  higher  ;  but  I  very 
much  doubt  if  any  leading  actor  at  Bath,  Bristol, 


40  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

Liverpool    or    Manchester   ever  received    more 
than  ten  pounds  a  week  in  those  days. 

My  experience  at  another  provincial  theatre  — 
the  Theatre  Royal,  Southampton  —  was  some- 
what curious.  The  house  was  taken  by  a  Mr. 
W.  J.  A.  Abingdon,  a  barrister  in  very  good 
practice  and  a  rich  man,  who  was  wildly  enthu- 
siastic upon  every  subject  connected  with  the 
drama.  His  particular  craze  was  his  fancy  that 
he  resembled  Shakspere,  and  he  indulged  his 
pride  in  having  himself  painted  as  the  Bard  of 
Avon,  after  Roubillac's  statue  in  Westminster 
Abbey,  a  portrait  which  was  distributed  broad- 
cast over  Southampton  and  the  neighboring 
town  of  Winchester.  I  soon  became  a  favorite 
with  him,  and  as  I  was  pretty  careful  in  my 
study  and  acting,  although  very  inexperienced, 
a  short  time  after  my  joining  his  company  he 
made  me  stage-manager ;  and  a  pretty  queer 
stage-manager  I  suppose  I  was !  This  must 
have  been  about  1844,  because  a  little  later  I 
became  a  great  Liverpool  favorite.  But  to  re- 
turn :  We  performed  alternate  nights  at  Win- 
chester and  Southampton,  and  the  company 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  41 

used  to  travel  in  a  little  omnibus,  with  a  lantern 
in  its  corner.  After  playing  in  Southampton 
we  had  to  go  to  Winchester,  and  vice  versa.  We 
acted  in  three  plays  a  night  in  those  days,  and 
had  to  write  out  our  own  parts,  too.  We  were 
not  provided  with  books,  and  studied  by  the 
light  of  this  lantern,  arriving  at  our  destination 
awfully  tired  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  or  per- 
haps early  in  the  morning.  Sometimes  we  had 
but  one  rehearsal,  and  sometimes  two,  seldom 
more ;  and  to  this  early  discipline  I  owe  the  re- 
tentive powers  of  memory  which  have  been  of 
such  wonderful  assistance  to  me  ever  since. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  months  I  found  myself 
in  the  Irish  capital,  and  I  was  a  member  of  the 
company  of  the  Theatre  Royal  there  for  a  couple 
of  seasons.  During  that  time  I  became  acquainted 
with  a  young  cornet  in  the  Fifth  Dragoon  Guards. 
He  was  six  feet  six  in  height,  and  a  remarkably 
handsome,  though  boyish,  looking  fellow.  He 
was  always  at  the  theatre,  either  before  or  behind 
the  footlights,  and  having  some  talent  as  an  ama- 
teur he  was  never  happy  unless  he  was  acting. 
His  father,  Sir  Alexander  Newton  Don,  was  a  very 


42  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

wealthy  man,  who  died  while  his  son  was  a  child. 
The  boy's  guardians  were  the  celebrated  Mr. 
Majoribanks,  the  great  banker,  and,  I  think,  the 
Duke  of  Cleveland.  He  was  the  wildest  of  the 
wild,  and  when  he  became  of  age  and  inherited 
his  splendid  property  he  immediately  went  upon 
the  turf,  where  he  lost  every  penny  of  it  in  four 
or  five  years.  When  I  met  him  the  second  time, 
to  my  utter  astonishment,  it  was  here  in  New 
York,  where  he  had  come  to  play  an  engagement, 
having  entered  the  profession.  He  appeared  as 
Sir  Charles  Coldstream  in  "  Used  Up,"  a  part  in 
which  I  had  made  some  quiet  fame.  Baronets 
were  not  so  common  in  that  time  as  they  are  now, 
and,  as  people  were  curious  to  see  one,  he  drew 
very  well.  He  then  went  to  Australia,  where  he 
died,  still  a  young  man.  He  was  one  of  the  most 
eccentric  and  extraordinary  characters  I  ever 
knew.  He  played  under  his  own  name  and 
title,  Sir  William  Don,  Bart.,  and  on  his  trip 
through  the  South,  the  farther  away  he  got  from 
what  we  may  call  first-class  towns  and  civiliza- 
tion generally,  the  less  they  understood  what 
Sir  William  Don,  Bart.,  meant,  and,  to  his  great 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  43 

amusement,  he  was  generally  addressed  as  "  Mr. 
Bart.  !  " 

Don  had  a  travelling  agent  named  Wilton, 
who  was  nearly  driven  to  distraction  by  his  em- 
ployer's wild  behavior.  If  at  the  close  of  an  en- 
gagement there  chanced  to  be  a  small  profit,  say 
fifty  or  sixty  dollars,  Don  would  distribute  it  all 
among  the  carpenters  and  scene-shifters,  leaving 
himself  without  a  penny.  Concerning  his  methods 
of  doing  business,  Wilton  used  to  tell  the  follow- 
ing story  :  "  Once  he  had  occasion  to  take  a  short 
drive,  and  he  hailed  a  cab.  What  do  you  sup- 
pose he  did  ?  It  was  a  most  extraordinary 
thing  ;  he  asked  the  man  if  he  had  any  change. 
The  man  said  '  No '  ;  and  I  had  none.  The  fare 
was  half  a  dollar,  and  Sir  William  tore  a  dollar 
bill  in  two  and  gave  the  driver  half,  destroying 
the  bill  but  not  satisfying  the  brute."  I  remem- 
ber Don  saying  to  me  one  day,  "  My  dear  John, 
if  you  will  take  a  walk  with  me  I  will  give  you 
the  great  surprise  of  your  life.  You  will  see  me 
pay  a  bill !  "  And  so  he  did,  astonishing  the  re- 
cipient of  the  money,  Fox,  the  tailor,  even  more 
than  he  surprised  me.  Speaking  once  of  his 


44  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


financial  condition  he  said,  "I  have  not  a  penny 
in  the  world,  but  when  my  dear  old  mother  dies 
I  shall  come  in  for  seventy  thousand  pounds.  I  'd 
rather  want  and  be  hard  up  than  wtsh  ill  to  her. 
But  with  seventy  thousand  pounds  and  the 
strictest  economy,  I  ought  to  get  on  very  com- 
fortably for  a  year  at  least." 

I  was  in  Dublin  during  what  were  called  the 
great  Post-office  riots.  They  were  caused  by  a 
most  peculiar  state  of  affairs.  Some  time  before 
the  railroads  were  established  in  Ireland  an  Italian 
named  Bianconi  took  the  contract  to  carry  the 
mails  that  were  landed  at  Queenstown,  and  held 
it  for  years.  He  was  a  young  fellow,  very 
much  liked,  and  no  doubt  the  men  who  drove  his 
carts  all  over  the  country  were  given  to  the  ex- 
change of  compliments  —  and  whisky  —  with  the 
peasantry.  Bianconi  was  so  popular  that  they 
Erinized  his  name,  and  called  him  Brian  Cooney. 
Finally,  it  was  reported  to  the  Government  that 
Bianconi  was  charging  a  great  deal  too  much,  and 
among  other  systems  of  reform  or  economy  it  was 
determined  to  look  into  the  matter.  The  result 
was  that  the  authorities  advertised  for  offers  for  the 


LESTER    WALLACK   AT   THE   AGE   OF   32. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  47 

delivery  of  the  mails  in  the  various  parts  of  the 
island,  on  the  ground  that  the  vehicles  and  horses 
of  the  present  contractor  were  not  satisfactory,  and 
that  too  much  valuable  time  was  lost  on  the  way. 
I  rather  think  the  only  railway  in  Ireland  at  that 
time  was  from  Kingstown  to  Dublin,  a  very  short 
distance,  ten  minutes  or  so.  This  was  in  1844  or 
'45 .  The  new  contract  was  awarded  to  somebody, 
I  could  not  say  who,  but  the  consequence  was  that, 
with  true  Irish  readiness  for  a  row  upon  any  prov- 
ocation, the  Irish  people,  resenting  what  they 
believed  was  an  interference  with  their  rights,  set 
out  to  smfash  everything  that  was  not  driven  by 
Brian  Cooney  or  his  men. 

Sackville  Street,  Dublin,  one  of  the  finest  thor- 
oughfares in  the  world,  was  crowded  with  men 
and  women  by  the  thousands.  There  was  stone- 
throwing,  and  all  those  little  amusements  that  an 
Irish  mob  (or  for  that  matter  any  mob)  indulges  in, 
and  at  last  the  military  had  to  be  called  out,  the 
police  having  no  control  over  the  people,  at  least 
not  sufficient  to  prevent  their  doing  mischief. 
Colonel  Scarlett,  afterwards  the  celebrated  Sir 
James  Scarlett,  who  led  the  charge  of  the  Heavy 


48  Memories   of  Fifty  Years. 


Brigade  in  the  Crimea,  dispatched  the  troop  in 
which  Don  was  a  subaltern,  and,  realizing  the 
danger  to  which  the  men  would  be  liable  by  stone- 
throwing,  the  order  was  given  that  they  should 
wear  their  helmets  ;  but  "  Billy  "  Don  swore  he 
would  not  wear  a  helmet  for  "any  bloody  mob," 
as  he  called  it,  and  he  appeared  with  nothing  on 
his  head  but  his  little  forage  cap.  I  was  present 
when  it  was  calculated  that  there  were  at  least 
ten  thousand  persons  around  the  Post-office,  yell- 
ing, hallooing  and  throwing  stones.  When  this 
troop,  the  Fifth  Dragoon  Guards,  a  fine  regiment, 
came  marching  down,  there  was  never  such  a  scat- 
tering. It  is  worth  recording  simply  to  show 
what  a  red-coat  or  a  blue-coat  is  to  a  mob.  The 
soldiers  simply  rode  quietly  through  them,  and 
back,  and  they  melted  away.  It  was  like  pouring 
hot  water  or  tea  on  a  lump  of  sugar.  After  it  was 
over,  Sir  William  Don  \vas  called  up  and  had  a 
"wigging,"  as  they  called  it,  because  he  did  not 
wear  his  helmet.  But  then  he  was  always  getting 
"wiggings"  from  somebody  for  something. 

The  Dublin  gallery  is  proverbial,  or  was  in  my 
day,  for  the  shrewdness  and  humor  of  its  outspoken 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  49 

criticism.  I  remember  one  particular  occasion 
when  a  man  named  Morrison,  who  led  the  chorus, 
a  gigantic  fellow  and  very  ugly,  afforded  no  little 
amusement  to  the  audience  and  his  fellow-singers. 
We  had  at  that  period  what  are  called  "  Ticket 
Nights."  After  the  benefits  of  the  regular  per- 
formers the  underlings  of  the  theatre,  the  leader 
of  the  chorus,  the  ushers  in  front  and  the  ticket 
takers,  would  have  a  benefit  in  common,  when  it 
was  the  custom  to  give  them  half  the  receipts  ;  the 
manager  doing  it  because  he  knew  perfectly  well 
that  the  house  would  be  jammed  full  to  the  ceil- 
ing, as  the  beneficiaries  sold  their  tickets  among 
their  friends  and  in  great  quantities.  The  curi- 
ous part  was  the  fact  that  the  ushers  and  ticket 
takers,  who,  of  course,  never  played  anything 
themselves,  made  up  for  it  by  pestering  the  man- 
agement for  some  particular  play  which  they  pre- 
ferred. The  people  on  the  stage,  chorus  singers, 
etc.,  naturally  wanted  to  do  something,  to  get  a 
chance  they  never  had  in  any  other  part  of  the 
season.  This  man  Morrison,  who,  by  the  way, 
was  known  as  "Nigger  Morrison,"  because  of 
his  dusky  complexion,  had  a  baritone  voice  and 


so  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


insisted  upon  singing  a  ballad  between  the  acts 
on  this  particular  "  Ticket  Night."  Now  the 
occupants  of  the  gallery  were  original  in  their 
methods  and  ingenious  in  the  application  of 
them.  They  would  wait  until  there  was  a  gap 
in  the  play,  as  there  always  is,  and  then  say  their 
say.  The  expected  chance  came  when  Morrison 
went  on  and  began :  "  Oh,  I  was  young  and  lovely 
once" — pausing  a  moment  to  draw  his  breath. 
"And  a  bloody  long  toimeago  it  must  have  been, 
Morrison,  me  boy  !"  was  the  response  from  the 
gods.  There  was  no  more  song  for  Morrison ! 

To  give  another  instance  of  the  quickness  of 
these  fellows  :  A  bass  singer  named  Leffler  — 
and  a  very  charming  singer  he  was,  too  —  came 
to  Dublin,  I  think  with  the  Pyne  troop,  which 
opened  in  "La  Sonnambula."  Leffler  was  both- 
ered for  a  dress  for  Count  Rndolpho.  He  was 
very  fond  of  swaggering  and  making  a  show, 
and  he  went  to  the  lessee  in  a  great  state  of 
mind  to  know  what  he  should  wear.  The  lessee 
asked,  "Where  is  your  own  dress?"  "Oh!" 
said  Leffler,  "  I  don't  know ;  they  were  going  to 
send  it  over,  and  it  has  not  arrived,  and  upon 


Memories   of  Fifty  Years.  51 

my  honor  I  have  n't  got  anything  to  put  on.  I 
don't  know  what  I  shall  do."  "You  have  got 
some  tights,  I  suppose,  and  some  Hessian  boots ; 
you  have  a  plain  coat,  or  if  not  I  will  find  you 
one,  and  you  can  go  on  looking  like  a  gentleman 
who  is  traveling."  This  was  a  very  proper  dress, 
but  LefHer  replied,  "I  always  go  on  and  make  a 
show,  and  I  must  have  something  military ! " 
Now  it  chanced  that  the  regiment  stationed  in 
Dublin  had  a  few  days  before  sold  the  old  uni- 
forms of  its  band  —  white  coats  with  yellow 
facings,  and  scarlet  trousers  with  a  white  seam. 
LefHer  thought  this  the  very  thing,  and  selected 
a  suit  which  fitted  him  to  perfection.  When  the 
overture  was  finished  he  swaggered  out  upon  the 
stage  thus  gorgeously  clad  and  with  a  riding- 
whip  in  his  hand.  Before  he  could  open  his 
mouth  a  man  in  the  gallery,  who  recognized  the 
costume,  cried :  "  Good-avenin',  Mr.  Leffler. 
Give  us  a  chune  on  the  clarionet !  " 

Barry,  the  prompter,  came  on  one  night  to 
make  a  speech,  somebody  having  been  taken  ill. 
It  was  the  fashion  then  to  wear  white  duck  trou- 
sers. Barry  had  been  out  in  a  shower  of  rain 


<j2  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

and  his  nether  garments  were  covered  with  mud. 
He  had  no  time  to  change  them,  but  had  to  go 
on  and  make  apology  in  this  condition.  He 
began:  "Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  and  as  he 
paused  a  moment  a  man  in  the  gallery  called 
out:  "Dick,  when  did  you  give  your  ducks  a 
swim  ?" 

There  used  to  be  in  those  days  what  are 
called  "Bespeak  Nights,"  when  some  influential 
person  publicly  appeared  as  the  especial  patron 
of  some  particular  performance.  When  the  Lord 
Lieutenant  of  Ireland  "  bespoke  "  a  play  it  was 
usually  for  the  benefit  of  the  manager  of  the 
Theatre  Royal.  By  some  old  law  that  exists, 
or  did  exist,  the  manager  of  this  house  ex  officio 
is  a  member  of  the  vice-regal  court,  and  on 
"Bespeak  Nights"  Calcraft  was  always  present 
in  full  court  dress,  standing  with  a  wand  behind 
the  representative  of  royalty;  and  while  the  ser- 
geants of  the  regiments  at  the  Castle  filled  the  pit 
the  privates  and  their  families  crowded  the  gallery. 
The  consequence  was  that  when  they  all  stood  up 
to  sing  "God  Save  the  Queen,"  the  sight  was 
most  magnificent.  All  the  sergeants  and  the  ser- 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  53 


geant-majors  in  the  pit,  the  officers  in  the  boxes, 
the  cavalry  and  infantry,  dressed  in  scarlet  and 
blue,  made  a  beautiful  and  brilliant  picture.  This 
did  not  exclude  the  public  at  all,  and  lots  of  fel- 
lows got  in,  particularly  in  the  gallery,  and  as 
much  for  the  sake  of  the  audience  as  of  the  play. 
On  one  particular  night,  which  closed  the 
season,  I  remember  Calcraft,  at  the  end  of  the 
piece,  excused  himself  and  went  on  the  stage 
to  make  his  farewell  speech.  As  he  entered 
there  was  an  immense  round  of  applause,  and 
he  said:  "Ladies  and  Gentlemen:  According 
to  custom  I  appear  before  you,  in  the  name  of 
my  company  and  myself,  to  take  a  respectful 
leave  and  to  express  our  appreciation  of  all  the 
favors  you  have  been  kind  enough  to  shower 
upon  us  during  a  very  difficult  and  trying  sea- 
son. I  cannot  say  that  the  season  has  been  a 
very  prosperous  one,  because  many  circum- 
stances have  militated  against  it.  Of  course,  I 
merely  mention  this  because  we  do  not  want  to 
seem  ungrateful  for  the  favors  we  have  received, 
and  I  want  to  acknowledge  the  presence  of  the 
representative  of  Her  Majesty,  and  to  thank 


54  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

him  for  the  kind  patronage  he  has  always  ex- 
tended to  the  drama  and  to  those  who  humbly, 
and  to  the  best  of  their  ability,  represent  it." 
He  then  went  on  to  say  that  the  change  in  the 
fashionable  dinner-hour  had  had  a  bad  effect  on 
the  houses ;  that  it  was  a  hard  matter  for  those 
who  dined  at  eight  to  get  to  the  theatre  in  time 
to  see  a  performance  which  began  at  half-past 
seven;  but  he  was  very  thankful  to  think  that  so 
many  people  did  come,  etc.  And  while  he  was 
hesitating  for  his  next  point,  a  man  rose  in  the 
gallery  and  said:  "Mr.  Calcraft!" — he  was  an 
old  fellow  with  a  dudeen  stuck  in  his  hat,  which 
was  shoved  on  the  back  of  his  head,  and  he 
waited  with  all  the  knowledge  of  an  old  actor 
until  he  got  the  house,  and  then  continued  — 
"Mr.  Calcraft,  I  give  ye  me  wurrd  of  honor,  I 
always  doine  at  two  !  " 

A  word  here  of  digression  in  the  matter  of 
benefits  may  not  be  out  of  place.  They  were 
universal  both  in  England  and  America  among 
stock  companies,  and  that  I  was  the  first  to  put 
a  stop  to  them  I  am  proud  to  say.  They  were 
degrading,  and  as  I  thought  begging,  appeals 


Memories   of  Fifty  Years.  55 

from  actors  and  actresses  who  already  received 
what  they  conceived  an  adequate  return  for  their 
services,  and  who  had  no  reason  to  call  upon  the 
public  for  something  extra.  I  spoke  to  other 
managers  on  the  subject  and  said  I  would  like  to 
see  an  end  put  to  it,  although  they  considered  it 
impossible.  But  I  was  determined  ;  and  on  one 
occasion,  after  Wallack's  Theatre  came  entirely 
into  my  own  hands,  I  assembled  the  company  in 
my  office  and  I  questioned  them  severally  as  to 
what,  in  the  years  they  had  been  with  me,  was 
the  largest  sum  they  had  ever  cleared  by  a  benefit. 
"Well,"  said  one,  "I  cleared  for  my  share  an  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars."  Another:  "I  cleared 
fifty  dollars."  Others  made  three  or  four  hundred 
dollars,  as  the  case  might  be.  I  said,  "  Well, 
I  '11  tell  you  what  I  will  do  ;  I  will  tack  the  sum, 
whatever  it  is,  on  to  your  weekly  salaries,  and  so 
do  away  with  the  benefits  altogether."  The  offer 
was  accepted,  other  managers  followed  my  ex- 
ample, and  the  obnoxious  system  died  an  easy 
and  a  natural  death. 


CHAPTER  II. 


ONE  of  the  first  important  steps  I  ever  took 
upon  the  ladder  of  fame  was  when  I  had  the 
honor,  and  pleasure,  of  playing  Benedick  to  Helen 
Faucit's  Beatrice  at  Manchester.  She  was  one 
of  the  gentlest  and  sweetest  actresses  I  ever  met. 
She  gave  me  more  encouragement  than  I  had 
ever  received  before,  and  the  patience  with  which 
she  rehearsed,  for  I  was  young  and  inexperienced 
then,  was  remarkable.  She  did  what  must  have 
been  very  irksome  to  her  and  went  over  our 
scenes  again  and  again  with  me,  until  I  got  my 
part  in  some  kind  of  shape ;  and  it  was  through 
her  kindness  that  I  made  something  of  a  hit  with 
the  audience.  I  shall  always  remember  her  with 
feelings  of  the  greatest  gratitude  on  that  account. 
I  played  but  that  one  Shaksperian  part  with  her, 
because  Beatrice  was  her  only  comedy  character 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  57 

there  except  Rosalind,  and  as  she  appeared  in 
tragedy  all  through  the  rest  of  the  engagement 
Gustavus  Brooke  supported  her.  She  is  now 
Lady  Martin.  As  Miss  Faucit  she  was  what  I 
should  call  one  of  the  most  sympathetic  actresses 
who  ever  walked  the  English  stage.  She  com- 
bined a  great  deal  of  power  with  perfect  pathos, 
and  I  can  hardly  recall  another  actress  who  did 
this  in  so  great  a  degree.  They  say  her  Lady 
Macbeth  was  very  impressive;  I  know  her  Portia 
was.  She  not  only  played  the  comic  portions 
admirably,  but  "  the  trial  scene  "  was  equally  well 
done  ;  gentle  and  quiet,  but  majestic  and  power- 
ful —  wonderfully  impressive.  She  came  out  first 
in  London  under  her  mother,  Mrs.  Faucit,  who 
played  what  is  called  the  "  heavy  lead."  Helen 
supported  Macready — she  was  the  original  Clara 
Douglas  in  Bulwer's  "  Money  "  —  at  the  Hay- 
market,  Covent  Garden,  and  elsewhere,  before 
she  went  starring  on  her  own  account.  She  was 
a  very  great  favorite  throughout  Great  Britain, 
particularly  in  Edinburgh. 

I  first  met  Gustavus  Brooke  at  this  Manches- 
ter house.    It  was  rather  a  small  one  and  Brooke 


58  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


and  I  dressed  in  the  same  room.  Off  the  stage 
he  had  a  particularly  strong  brogue.  He  was  a 
perfectly  reckless  man,  who  did  not  care  how  his 
money  went  or  what  straits  he  might  be  in.  He 
was  an  Irishman — one  of  the  generous,  kind- 
hearted,  whole-souled  John- Brougham  Irishmen. 
During  that  engagement  at  Manchester  we 
acted  together.  I  would  often  go 
into  my  dressing-room  and  find 
that  certain  very  necessary  articles 
of  my  wardrobe  were  missing;  and 
one  night  in  particular  I  remem- 
ber I  was  playing  Modus  in  the 
"Hunchback,"  while  he  was  act- 
ing Master  Walter  and  Miss  Fau- 
cit  Julia.  I  went  into  the  room 
and  found  Brooke  ready  to  go  on.  I  had  a  cos- 
tume I  was  particularly  fond  of — a  chocolate- 
colored,  plain,  quiet  sort  of  dress;  and  I  missed 
the  tights  belonging  to  it.  Brooke  said:  "What 
is  the  matter,  me  dear  boy?"  I  said:  "  I  can- 
not dress  —  I  can't  find  my  tights."  "Why," 
said  he,  "I  took  the  liberty  to  take  your 
tights  myself;  they  are  on  me.  I  could  n't  find 


G.  V.  BROOKE. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  59 

my  own."  Fortunately  I  did  not  go  on  till 
the  second  act,  and  by  that  time  the  whole  thea- 
tre had  been  ransacked  and  I  got  somebody's 
nether  garments,  and  he  carried  through  the 
performance  with  "Lester's  tights."  It  was 
characteristic  of  Brooke  that  he  would  have 
been  quite  as  willing  that  I  should  have  taken 
his  and  have  gone  on  himself  without  any.  He 
was  '  one  of  those  reckless,  generous  creatures 
who  would  give  anything  he  had  in  the  world 
to  me,  or  to  anybody  else  he  liked. 

He  first  made  his  appearance  at  the  Olympic, 
in  London,  a  little  bit  of  a  theatre,  and  he  met 
with  the  most  unqualified  success.  He  came 
out  in  Othello.  It  is  a  singular  thing  that  Brooke 
made  almost  as  great  a  hit  as  Edmund  Kean  did 
when  he  appeared  as  SJiylock.  It  was  a  tremen- 
dous triumph.  He  had  been  little  heard  of  ex- 
cept as  a  favorite  provincial  actor.  His  success 
was  instantaneous  and  complete ;  but,  unlike 
that  of  Kean,  it  was  not  followed  up  at  all. 
The  second  part  he  played  was  Sir  Giles  Over- 
reacJi  in  "A  New  Way  to  Pay  Old  Debts,"  and 
although  that  was  as  consistently  fine  a  piece 


60  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

of  acting  as  his  Othello,  perhaps  more  perfect, 
it  did  not  seem  to  strike  the  people  by  any 
means  so  forcibly.  From  his  first  performance 
he  gradually  sank  in  public  estimation,  and  that, 
I  presume,  was  the  reason  he  went  to  Australia, 
where  he  made  an  immense  reputation  and  is 
still  lovingly  remembered.  It  was  on  his  second 
voyage  to  Australia  that  he  went  to  the  bottom, 
poor  fellow.  I  think  the  ship  was  called  "The 
London."  Harry  Edwards  has  the  most  affec- 
tionate recollection  of  him. 

Brooke  had  a  most  wonderful  voice  —  a  voice 
of  tremendous  power  and  at  the  same  time  of 
great  melody,  and  with  a  great  deal  of  variety 
in  it.  On  one  occasion  he  was  acting  with  For- 
rest, our  American  tragedian.  He  was  then  a 
stock  actor  in  one  of  the  English  towns  in  which 
Forrest  was  starring,  and  when  some  one  said  to 
him,  "Brooke,  look  out,  here  is  Forrest  coming; 
he  has  a  powerful  voice,  a  voice  that  will  drown 
anything  that  was  ever  heard  here,"  Brooke  re- 
plied, "I  '11  show  him  something  if  he  tries  it 
with  me."  Forrest  played  Otlicllo  and  Brooke 
lago,  and  in  the  great  scene  in  the  third  act, 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  61 


where  OtJiello  lays  hold  of  lago,  Forrest  put 
forth  the  whole  of  his  terrific  and  tremendous 
force,  which  he  always  did.  The  moment  he 
finished,  Brooke  came  out  with  his 'speech,  "Oh, 
Grace !  Oh,  Heaven  defend  me !  "  etc.,  in  a 
manner  that  almost  made  the  roof  shake;  it 
absolutely  seemed  as  if  Forrest's  voice  had 
been  nothing.  It  astonished  Forrest,  and  as- 
tonished everybody  else.  I  suppose  Brooke 
had  the  most  powerful  lungs,  except  Salvini's, 
that  were  ever  given  to  an  actor.  That  is  a  very 
exhausting  speech  of  Othello's  in  this  scene,  and 
by  the  time  Forrest  was  done  he  was  pretty  well 
pumped  out,  and  the  other  came  in  fresh.  It  was 
not  a  very  wise  act  upon  Brooke's  part,  and  con- 
trary to  his  better  judgment,  but  he  had  become 
so  worked  up  by  the  repeated  warnings  against 
Forrest's  tremendous  voice  that  he  did  it  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment.  Forrest  certainly  was  never 
more  surprised  in  the  course  of  his  professional 
life,  for  it  was  seldom  he  met  with  a  man  whose 
utterance  could  compare  with  his  own  in  volume 
and  strength. 

My    first     intimate     relation     with     Charles 


62  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


Mathews  the  younger  was  also  during  my  Man- 
chester engagement,  when  I  had  become  a  sort 
of  favorite  at  the  Queen's  Theatre  —  what  might 
be  called  a  semi-star,  or  asteroid.  Mathews  and 
his  wife  —  formerly  known  as  Madame  Vestris  — 
came  there  to  play,  and  of  course  I  was  vejy 
glad  of  the  opportunity  of  acting  with  them, 
which  I  did  in  two  or  three 
pieces,  receiving  the  kindest  and 
warmest  encouragement  from 
them  both.  This  is  one  of  my 
pleasantest  recollections,  one  of 
those  remembrances  that  make 
me  appreciate  the  fact  that  a 
young  man's  progress  may  be 
very  much  injured  or  very  much 
aided  by  the  kindness  or  dis- 
couragement shown  him  by  those  who  are  higher 
in  rank  than  himself.  At  all  events,  they  did 
me  a  great  deal  of  good. 

The  next  I  saw  of  Charles  Mathews  was  when 
he  came  to  this  country  in  1857,  after  his  wife's 
death,  and  played  at  what  was  then  the  Broad- 
way Theatre,  on  the  corner  of  Anthony  Street. 


CHARLES    J.  MATHEWS. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  63 


I  met  him  very  frequently  at  dinner  at  Bouci- 
cault's  house  and  at  my  own.  My  father  was  a 
great  invalid,  and  Charles  used  to  go  and  visit 
him  and  sit  by  his  bedside  continually;  and  so 
we  got  to  see  a  great  deal  of  each  other;  and  it 
was  perfectly  remarkable  then,  as  it  was  after- 
wards, how  lightly  he  took  all  the  cares  and 
vicissitudes  of  life.  He  seemed  to  go  through  the 
world  as  a  grasshopper  does  :  when  he  found  the 
ground  a  little  rough  he  hopped  and  got  over  it. 
He  was  the  most  lightsome  creature  that  can  be 
imagined,  and  he  never  seemed  to  let  care  take 
hold  of  him. 

During  this  visit  to  America  he  played  in 
various  cities  throughout  the  country,  and  I 
remember  his  showing  me  the  results  of  an  en- 
gagement in  one  large  town,  which  he  invested 
in  a  peculiar  and  characteristic  way.  His  net 
profits  were  exactly  ten  cents,  and  this  particular 
dime  he  put  upon  his  watch-chain  and  wore  for 
many  years  as  a  charm.  This  visit  ended  with 
his  marriage  to  the  wife  of  "  Dolly"  Davenport, 
formerly  Miss  Lizzie  Weston. 

Davenport  was  then  at  our  theatre,  Broadway 


64 


Memories   of  Fifty  Years. 


•: 


A.  H.  DAVENPORT. 


near  Broome  Street,  and  the  famous  fracas  be- 
tween them  occurred  just  outside  of  the  stage 
door  of  the  Metropolitan  Theatre  (afterwards  the 
Winter  Garden),  where  Mathews 
was  playing  an  engagement.  The 
usual  result  followed  :  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  gossip,  much  con- 
troversy in  the  newspapers,  with 
the  inevitable  "simmering  down"; 
and  Mathews  and  his  wife  almost 
immediately  afterwards  left  America 
for  England.  Thence  he  went  for  a 
long  tour  to  India,  Australia  and  New  Zealand. 

His  last  visit  was  made  after  my  father's  death, 
and  when  I  had  become  the  sole  manager  of  the 
house  on  Broadway  and  Thirteenth  Street.  He 
brought  over  his  second  wife,  who,  from  being  a 
very  handsome,  dark-haired  woman,  had  become  a 
brilliant  blonde  ;  as  was  the  case  with  the  majority 
of  dark-haired  women  at  that  time.  He  opened 
at  the  Fifth  Avenue  Theatre,  New  York,  and  she 
played  in  one  piece  with  him.  I  remember  that 
was  the  time  I  produced  "The  Liar."  Mrs. 
Mathews  came  to  see  it  the  first  night,  and  he 


Memories   of  Fifty  Years.  65 


told  me  afterwards  that  she  had  advised  him  not 
to  play  it.  He  replied,  "  My  dear  Lizzie,  it  is 
one  of  my  big  parts  in  London ;  why  should  n't  I 
play  it  here  ?  "  She  said,  "Don't  think  of  it." 
He  wanted  to  find  out  why  he  was  not  to  play 
it,  and  asked  two  or  three  friends,  who  told  him 
that  I  had  embellished  it  with  new  scenery  and 
many  effects  that  he  never  thought  of,  and  per- 
haps, if  he  were  to  play  it,  the  audience  would 
miss  these  things,  and  as  he  had  plenty  of  other 
parts  it  would  be  just  as  well  if  he  did  not  invite 
the  comparison. 

At  last  he  wrote  and  told  me  he 
wished  to  see  me,  so  I  made  an  ap- 
pointment, and  he  came  one  clay  to 
my  office,  and  said :  "  My  dear 
Wallack,  what  is  the  reason  I  must 
wander  about  from  place  to  place? 
What  is  the  reason  I  can't  get  any 
chance  with  you  ?  Here  is  the 
very  theatre  that  suits  me."  I  said  :  "  My 
dear  Charles,  the  reason  simply  is  that  the 
only  auxiliary  I  have  is  myself;  I  have  a  very 
fine  company,  and  when  .business  is  very  dull 


MRS.  CHARLES     MATHEWS. 


66  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

I  go  on,  and  am  a  great  help ;  but  a  star 
theatre  I  can  never  make  it."  "Will  you  have 
me  in  your  stock  company?"  he  asked.  "Are 
you  joking?"  I  returned.  And  he  replied, 
"  No,  not  at  all;  I  shall  be  delighted.  Think  what 
you  can  give  me,  and  if  you  come  anywhere 
near  what  will  suit  me,  nothing  will  be  more 
charming  than  to  find  myself  under  the  manage- 
ment of  one  I  knew  almost  as  a  boy." 

After  duly  considering  the  matter  I  wrote  to 
him,  saying  he  must  make  his  own  proposition, 
and  that  I  would  meet  his  terms  if  I  could.  His 
reply  was  :  "  My  dear  Wallack,  No  !  No  !  No  !  " 
Upon  which  I  wrote  :  "  My  dear  Mathews,  I  will 
give  you  one  hundred  pounds  a  week  for  the 
season."  And  he  replied  at  once,  "  My  dear 
Wallack,  Yes  !  Yes  !  Yes  !"  And  that  settled 
the  matter. 

He  was  a  member  of  my  company  all  through 
the  season.  I  had  then  revived  "The  Veteran," 
to  seventeen  and  eighteen  hundred  dollars  a 
night,  and  had  to  defer  his  appearance.  He 
came  to  me  and  said  :  "  John,  this  is  all  wrong; 
I  am  taking  your  money  and  doing  nothing."  I 


LESTER    WALLACK   AS   LEON   DELMAR. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  69 


replied,  "  Charles,  take  it  and  do  nothing,  and 
thank  Heaven  you  are  so  well  off."  He  asked  : 
"  Do  you  mind  if  I  can  make  that  money  by 
playing  an  engagement  at  Brooklyn  ?  "  I  an- 
swered :  "  No,  certainly  not ;  if  you  can  relieve 
me  of  two  or  three  of  these  five  hundred  dollars, 
I  am  willing."  And  this  he  did,  in  a  measure, 
by  what  he  made  there.  He  was  very  ill  at  that 
time,  too.  It  was  then  that  he  first  told  me  what 
a  charming  club  there  was  in  Brooklyn,  and  was 
the  cause  of  my  ultimately  joining  the  Brooklyn 
Club,  of  which  I  have  been  a  member  twelve  or 
fifteen  years. 

I  first  brought  him  out  in  "  London  Assur- 
ance," at  my  theatre.  I  played  Charles  Courtly 
and  he  played  Dazzle.  Gilbert  was  SirHarcourt, 
Miss  Plessy  Mordaunt  was  Lady  Gay  Spanker, 
and  William  Floyd  was  Dolly.  Then  he  went 
through  a  round  of  his  favorite  characters.  He 
played  Puff  in  "  The  Critic  "  charmingly.  Stod- 
dart  was  the  Don  Whisker andos,  and  his  death  was 
so  excessively  droll  that  Mathews  said  it  was  the 
first  time  this  character  had  succeeded  in  making 
him  laugh  on  the  stage,  to  the  neglect  of  his  own 


70  Memories    of  Fifty  Years. 


"business."  He  appeared  also  during  the  en- 
gagement in  "  Aggravating  Sam,"  one  of  his 
special  favorites,  and  in  his  old  part  of  Marplot 
in  "  The  Busybody,"  which  I  had  frequently 
played  on  the  same  boards. 

I  was  sitting  in  his  dressing-room  one  night 
when  he  said:  "John,  I  have  been  thinking  where 
to  place  you."  I  said  :  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 
"Where  to  place  you  as  an  artist,"  he  went  on. 
I  was  naturally  very  anxious  to  hear  what  he  had 
to  say  on  that  point,  so  I  said  :  "  Don't  be  bash- 
ful." I  thought  perhaps  he  was  going  to  be  a 
little  critical.  "Say  anything;  it  must  do  me 
good  more  than  harm."  He  said:  "I  should 
call  you  a  mixture  of  your  father  and  myself. 
Of  your  father  in  melodrama  and  high  comedy, 
and  of  myself  in  what  we  used  in  my  younger 
days  to  call  '  touch  and  go  '  playing."  "  Well," 
I  said,  "  that  's  a  pretty  good  mixture,  and, 
seriously,  the  highest  compliment  I  have  ever 
received." 

As  a  member  of  a  stock  company,  in  spite  of 
his  importance  as  a  star,  a  more  genial  or  charm- 
ing person  cannot  be  imagined,  nor  a  more  loyal 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  71 

subject.  And  here  it  may  be  remarked  that,  as 
a  rule,  I  have  always  found  that  the  higher  the 
rank  of  the  artist,  the  more  amenable  he  is  to  dis- 
cipline. The  troubles  in  this  respect,  at  least 
those  I  have  experienced,  have  always  been 
caused  by  comparatively  unimportant  people. 

He  said  one  day  he  had  never  seen  an  Ameri- 
can yacht.  I  said  :  "  Well,  will  you  come  down 
and  have  a  little  cruise  with  me  on  the  '  Colum- 
bia ?' '  "  For  Heaven's  sake,  don't  ask  me  to  sail 
in  her.  I  have  sailed  all  over  the  world  during 
the  last  two  or  three  years,  and  I  am  thoroughly 
sick  of  the  water."  I  said  :  "  We  won't  quarrel 
about  it,  but  come  down  and  dine  with  me,  and 
you  might  bring  just  a  dressing-gown  and  a  pair 
of  socks,  or  something  of  the  sort,  because  if  it 
should  rain  very  hard  you  had  better  sleep 
aboard,  and  not  have  that  long  journey  back." 
The  yacht  was  then  lying  off  Tompkinsville, 
Staten  Island.  He  came  aboard  and  was  de- 
lighted with  her.  I  said  :  "  Are  you  seasick  ?  " 
"  Oh,  this  is  delicious,"  he  answered  as  he  lay  in 
the  cockpit,  smoking  a  cigar.  I  had  given  orders 
quietly  to  get  the  anchor  up,  and  before  he  knew 


72  Memories   of  Fifty  Years. 

where  he  was  we  were  under  way,  and  he  did  not 
leave  that  boat  for  three  or  four  days.  He  said 
he  never  had  a  more  delightful  time  in  his  life. 

A  more  charming  table  companion  and  more 
agreeable  person  than  Charles  Mathews  could  not 
possibly  be.  I  have  somewhere  the  speech  he 
made  (which  he  sent  me  in  print  afterwards)  at 
his  benefit  and  last  appearance  on  my  stage.  It 
was  in  a  part  called  Sir  Simon  Simple,  in  "  Not 
Such  a  Fool  as  he  Looks."  I  had  acted,  in  the 
first  piece,  the  Captain  of  the  Watch,  an  original 
part  of  his  which  I  first  saw  him  play  at  Covent 
Garden.  That  was  the  last  time  I  ever  saw 
Charles  Mathews.  I  got  a  most  affectionate  let- 
ter from  his  wife  after  he  had  returned  to  Eng- 
land, in  which  she  said  she  never  could  forget 
his  description  of  how  he  was  treated  by  me. 

After  that  Mrs.  Wallack  met  him  several  times 
in  London,  and  he  was  always  most  attentive 
and  kind  to  her.  On  one  occasion  she  went 
to  see  him  in  "  My  Awful  Dad."  There  was 
another  piece  played  after  it,  and  Mathews, 
when  he  was  dressed,  came  into  the  box  and 
asked  Mrs.  Wallack  how  she  liked  it.  She  was 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


73 


much  pleased  with  it;  so  he  said:  "There  is  but 
one  man,  after  myself,  that  can  play  this  part, 
and  that  is  John.  I  will  make  it  a  present  to 
him."  He  did  so,  and  she  brought  out  the 
manuscript.  I  saw  that  two  long  acts  would 
never  do,  and  I  rewrote  it,  making  it  into  three 
acts.  Much  of  the  business  is  mine,  including 
the  address  to  the  jury.  I 
did  the  latter  in  imitation 
of  a  barrister  I  had  heard 
in  London.  That  was  how 
I  came  to  have  "My  Awful 
Dad."  Harry  Beckett  played 
the  son  admirably. 

I  saw  Barnay  one  night 
in  a  sort  of  petite  comedy, 
in  which  he  played  a  part 
that  Charles  Mathews  would  have  played  inim- 
itably. He  was  a  young  gentleman  with  light 
hair;  a  fashionable-looking  youth,  in  a  Prince 
Albert  coat  and  in  gray  trousers,  admirably 
dressed,  and  looking  as  if  he  might  have  stood 
on  the  steps  of  a  Pall  Mall  or  St.  James' 
Street  clubhouse.  There  was  no  more  in  it 


HARRY   BECKETT. 


74  Memories   of  Fifty  Years. 


than  you  could  see  a  man  like  Charles  Mathews 
do,  and  do  equally  as  well;  but  it  was  pleasant 
and  charming.  He  next  appeared  as  King 
Lear,  in  which  he  was  simply  grand.  From  the 
almost  flaxen-haired,  gentleman-like  young  swell 
to  the  old  white-bearded,  majestic  king  was  a 
decided  change;  and  I  can  conceive  nothing  much 
finer  than  he  was  through  the  two  or  three  acts 
that  he  presented  in  that  latter  impersonation. 
Finally  he  played  the  young  Roman — the  youth- 
ful Mark  Antony  —  in  the  Forum  scene;  and 
the  contrast  between  the  three  characters  and 
the  manner  in  which  he  presented  them  showed, 
I  think,  what  a  really  great  artist  is.  There  you 
saw  a  great  actor ;  each  thing  was  inimitable  of 
its  kind  and  absolutely  as  different  and  distinct 
from  the  other  as  it  could  possibly  be.  The 
youthful  fire  and  vigor  of  Mark  Antony  had 
absolutely  nothing  in  common  with  the  faded 
grandeur  and  power  of  King  Lear,  and  certainly 
neither  of  them  suggested  in  any  way  the  club- 
house swell  of  the  present  day. 

Barnay  expressed  his  disappointment  to  me  in 
this,  that  he  came  here  expecting  to  play  before 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


an  American  audience,  but  that  at  the  Thalia 
Theatre,  which  is  on  the  Bowery,  and  to  which  the 
uptown  and  west-side  population  of  New  York 
cannot  be  induced  to  go,  he  found  he  was  playing 
to  fine  houses  and  to  enthusiastic  audiences,  but 
that  he  might  as  well  have  been  playing  in  Ber- 
lin. When  Barnay  saw  me  as  Voting  Marlow  in 
"  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,"  he  came  around  to 
my  room  afterwards  and  was  very  enthusiastic. 
He  pointed  out  to  me  the  reasons  why  he  liked 
it,  and  showed  me  clearly  what  it  is  to  play  be- 
fore an  artist;  because,  although  his  knowledge 
of  English  was  limited  and  imperfect,  he  saw 
what  not  one  person  out  of  ten  in  an  ordinary 
American  or  English  audience  in  this  period  of 
ours  would  have  seen.  That  is,  he  saw  the  mo- 
tive of  everything  I  did,  the  effect  of  the  study 
of  what  I  did.  He  saw  the  intellectual  side  of  it. 
I  have  given  this  part  a  great  deal  of  study,  as 
I  do  everything  I  play,  right  or  wrong,  and  all 
this  he  fully  appreciated  and  understood  with 
the  sympathy  of  a  close  and  intelligent  student. 
But  to  return  to  Manchester  and  my  early  ex- 
periences there.  Charlotte  and  Susan  Cushman, 


Memories   of  Fifty  Years. 


with  both  of  whom  I  afterwards  became  very 
intimate,  played  "Romeo  and  Juliet"  at  the 
Queen's  in  1845  J  an^  were  the  cause  of  my  going 
to  London,  that  Mecca  of  all  young  English 
actors.  Susan  was  the  Juliet,  and  Charlotte  said 
to  Mr.  Sloane,  who  was  then  the  lessee  of  that 
theatre,  "  Who  is  your  Mercutio  ?  '  Sloane  re- 
plied :  "There  I  think  we  shall 
be  all  right;  I  have  got  young 
Wallack."  She  asked:  "  Whom 
do  you  mean  by  young  Wal- 
lack ?  I  know  Mr.  James  Wal- 
lack ;  I  have  played  with  him, 
and  have  the  greatest  admira- 
tion for  him.  I  know  he  has 
a  son  ;  is  he  on  the  stage  ? " 
"Yes,"  said  Sloane.  "  I  do  not  see  his  name 
here."  "  No,  he  calls  himself  Mr.  Lester." 
"  Very  inexperienced,  I  am  afraid,"  said  Miss 
Cushman.  "Yes,  very  inexperienced,  but  he  is 
said  to  have  a  good  deal  of  promise  about  him." 
At  the  end  of  the  first  rehearsal  without  books, 
Charlotte  Cushman  put  her  hand  on  my  shoulder 
and  said:  "Young  gentleman,  there  is  a  great 


CHARLOTTE    CUSHMAN. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  77 

future  before  you,  if  you  take  care  and  do  not 
let  your  vanity  run  away  with  you."  After  that 
we  became  great  friends,  and  when  she  went  to 
fulfil  an  engagement  at  the  Haymarket  she  said 
to  Mr.  Webster  :  "  Wallack  is  the  coming  young 
man  of  the  day."  As  I  had  often  seen  my  father 
in  the  part  of  Mercutio,  I  suppose,  for  a  young- 
ster, it  was  a  better  performance  than  they  ex- 
pected ;  and  that  was  the  commencement  of  my 
approach  to  London. 

Mr.  Webster  thought  that  he  would  very  much 
like  to  get  a  young  man  who  would  hit  the  pub- 
lic, because  Charles  Mathews  had  just  left  him 
to  go  to  the  Lyceum  Theatre.  \Vebster  had  the 
Adelphi  and  the  Haymarket  both,  at  that  time. 
Miss  Cushman's  recommendation  of  me  worked 
upon  him,  and  he  finally  engaged  me  to  play  at 
the  latter  house.  My  first  appearance  in  London 
was  in  a  piece  called  "  The  Little  Devil,"  a  two- 
act  play  which  Mr.  Mathews  and  his  wife  had 
been  very  successful  in.  Mr.  Farren,  Mr.  Webs- 
ter and  I  consulted  as  to  what  would  be  best  for 
my  metropolitan  debut;  and  I  said  I  had  made 
some  fame  in  this  part  of  Mathews's  at  Liverpool, 


78  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

but  I  had  played  in  a  different  version  from  that 
of  Mathews  and  Vestris.  I  wanted  to  play  my 
own  version,  as  I  had  my  own  little  business,  and 
all  that ;  but  Mr.  Webster  declared  that  I  should 
play  in  his,  which  was  very  poor  ;  and  also  that 
I  should  sing.  I  had  never  sung  a  note  on  the 
stage,  and  I  told  him  it  would  in  all  probability 
kill  my  first  appearance,  by  reason  of  the  extra 
nervousness  in  singing  a  duet  with  Priscilla  Hor- 
ton  (afterwards  Mrs.  German  Reed),  and  particu- 
larly a  drinking  song,  a  thing  I  never  dreamed  of. 
Not  only  did  Mr.  Webster  insist  upon  my  doing 
this,  which  required  a  restudy  (there  is  nothing 
so  difficult  as  studying  the  rearrangement  of  a 
play  you  have  already  learned),  but  he  insisted 
upon  my  singing  the  songs,  and  sent  me  on  the 
stage  after  1 1  o'clock  at  night,  and  after  a  five- 
act  comedy.  I  was  a  good  deal  put  out  at  this. 
I  thought  it  would  ruin  my  chances,  and  to  a 
certain  extent  it  did,  the  audience  being  tired 
and  yawning,  many -leaving  the  theatre  before  I 
came  on. 

So  well  did  somebody  manage, —  I  won't  say 
who, —  that  after  a  few  nights  of  this  I  did  not  act 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


79 


at  all,  and  when  I  appeared  again  it  was  once 
more  under  unfair  treatment,  as  I  believe.  Mr. 
Hudson,  who  was  the  leading  comedian  then, 
was  taken  ill  and  could  not  play  Dazzle  in  "  Lon- 
don Assurance,"  .which  had 
then  been  revived.  Mr.  Bou- 
cicault  himself  attended  the 
rehearsal,  and  they  cast  me 
for  Dazzle,  a  part  I  had  never 
attempted,  and  which  had  all 
the  prestige  of  Mr.  Charles 
Mathews's  great  name.  I  had 
not  been  allowed  to  play  for 
some  weeks,  and  I  was  put  on 
the  stage  with  Mr.  Farren,  Mr.  Buckstone  and 
all  these  people  around  me  who  knew  every  turn 
and  twist  of  the  business  of  the  comedy ;  and  I 
naturally  appeared  under  the  greatest  possible 
disadvantages.  I  think  that  is  about  all  I  did  do. 


DION    BOUCICAULT. 


CHAPTER    III. 

How  singularly  prejudiced  the  old  managers 
were  against  anything  like  an  innovation.  It  was 
thought  an  extraordinary  thing  when  Garrick 
first  put  on  a  pair  of  Elizabethan  trunks  for 
Richard  III.  He  played  Macbeth  in  a  square- 
cut  scarlet  coat,  the  costume  of  an  English  gen- 
eral, and  a  regulation  wig  with  a  pigtail  of  his 
own  period,  while  Mrs.  Pritchard,  who  played 
Lady  Macbetli,  wore  an  enormous  hoop.  Gar- 
rick  desired  very  much  to  wear  a  Scotch  tartan 
and  kilt,  and  a  plaid,  with  bare  legs,  the  tra- 
ditional Highland  costume.  But  this  was  in  the 
days  of  the  Pretender,  when  no  one  was  allowed 
to  show  a  plaid  in  the  streets  of  London.  After 
Garrick  had  brought  in  a  great  deal  of  wise  re- 
form in  the  way  of  dress  there  was  a  lull  again, 
and  no  one  dared  to  do  anything  new.  Many 
80 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  81 

generations  later  my  father  was  cast  for  the  part 
of  Trcssel,  in  Gibber's  version  of  "Richard  III." 
Tresscl  is  the  youthful  messenger  who  conveys 
to  King  Henry  VI.  the  news  of  the  murder  of 
his  son  after  the  battle  of  Tewkesbury.  My 
father,  a  young,  ambitious  actor,  came  on  with 
the  feather  hanging  from  his  cap,  all  wet,  his 
hair  dishevelled,  one  boot  torn  nearly  off,  one 
spur  broken,  the  other  gone  entirely,  his  gaunt- 
let stained  with  blood,  and  his  sword  snapped  in 
twain  ;  at  which  old  Wewitzer,  who  was  the  man- 
ager, and  had  been  a  manager  before  my  father 
was  born,  was  perfectly  shocked.  It  was  too  late 
to  do  anything  then,  but  the  next  morning  We- 
witzer sent  for  him  to  come  to  his  office,  and 
addressed  him  thus:  "Young  man,  how  do  you 
ever  hope  to  get  on  in  your  profession  by  delib- 
erately breaking  all  precedent?  What  will  be- 
come of  the  profession  if  mere  boys  are  allowed 
to  take  these  liberties?  Why,  sir,  you  should 
have  entered  in  a  suit  of  decent  black,  with  silk 
stockings  on  and  with  a  white  handkerchief  in 
your  hand."  "What!  after  defeat  and  flight 
from  battle  ?  "  interrupted  my  father.  "  That 


82  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

has  nothing  at  all  to  do  with  it,"  was  the  re- 
ply; "the  proprieties!     Sir,  the  proprieties!" 

This  simply  goes  to  show  how  difficult  it  was 
to  introduce  anything  new  in  the  matter  of  acting 
or  costume.  Some  of  the  papers  spoke  very 
highly  of  the  innovation,  and  the  audience  was 
satisfied,  if  the  management  was  not.  Elliston 
was  another  early  manager  of  my  father's.  He 
was  a  man  whose  pomposity  and  majesty  in  pri- 
vate life  were  absolutely  amazing;  but  he  was  a 
great  actor  for  all  that  and  an  intelligent  man- 
ager. For  example,.  George  IV.  was  a  most 
theatrical  man  in  all  he  did,  and  when  his  coro- 
nation took  place  he  dressed  all  his  courtiers 
and  everybody  about  him  in  peculiarly  dramatic 
costumes  —  dresses  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  time. 
It  was  all  slashed  trunks  and  side  cloaks,  etc. 
Of  course,  the  dukes,  earls  and  barons  were  par- 
ticularly disgusted  at  the  way  they  had  to  exhibit 
themselves,  and  as  soon  as  the  coronation  cere- 
monies were  over  these  things  were  thrown  aside 
and  sold,  and  Elliston  bought  an  enormous  num- 
ber of  them.  He  was  then  the  lessee  of  the 
Surrey  Theatre,  where  he  got  up  a  great  pageant 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  83 

and  presented  "The  Coronation  of  George  IV." 
He  had  a  platform  made  in  the  middle  of  the  pit, 
and  in  one  scene  he  strutted  down  among  the 
audience  in  the  royal  robes ;  at  which,  with  some 
good-natured  chaff,  there  was  a  tremendous 
round  of  applause.  For  the  moment  Elliston 
became  so  excited  that  he  imagined  he  was  really 
the  King  himself,  and  spreading  out  his  arms 
he  said,  amid  dead  silence :  "  Bless  you,  my 
people  !  " 

In  his  later  years  the  habit  of  drinking  became 
so  confirmed  that  when  he  was  advertised  to  ap- 
pear, the  public,  as  in  the  case  of  the  elder  Kean, 
was  never  sure  whether  it  was  to  see  him  or  not. 
In  one  season,  when  rny  father  was  stage-man- 
ager of  Drury  Lane,  Elliston  was  announced  to 
play  Falstaff  in  "Henry  IV.,"  Macready  being 
cast  for  Hotspur  and  my  father  for  the  Prince  of 
Wales.  The  anxiety  to  see  the  performance 
was  great,  not  only  among  habitual  theatre-go- 
ers, but  in  the  profession  itself;  and  Macready, 
at  his  own  request,  had  a  chair  on  the  stage  to 
watch  Elliston's  rehearsals.  He  was  perfectly 
delighted  with  what  he  saw;  and  he  believed, 


84  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

with  others,  that  Elliston  was  the  most  perfect 
Falstaff  that  ever  lived.  Even  in  his  feeble  and 
intemperate  old  age  he  played  it  magnificently. 
On  this  particular  occasion,  in  the  scene  of  the 
combat  between  Hotspur  and  the  Prince  of  Wales, 
while  Falstaff  is  encouraging  the  Prince,  Doug- 
las enters,  fights  with  Falstaff and  leaves  him  as 
if  dead  upon  the  field.  When  he  is  gone  Falstaff, 
looking  around  to  see  that  he  is  perfectly  safe, 
and  that  no  one  is  by,  gets  up,  sees  Percy  slain 
and  cries,  "I  am  afraid  of  this  gunpowder 
Percy,  though  he  be  dead,"  and  stabs  the  body 
again  in  the  thigh.  The  speech  ends  with  the 
words:  "Meantime,  with  this  new  wound  in 
your  thigh,  do  thou  come  along  with  me." 
Then  there  is  a  great  deal  of  "comic  business," 
in  which  he  tries  to  get  Percy  on  his  back  to 
carry  him  in  to  the  King,  pretending  to  have 
killed  him  himself.  When  the  Falstaff  of  the 
evening  came  to  this  he  made  one  or  two  inef- 
fectual efforts  to  get  up,  and  the  consequence 
was  that  the  scene  of  his  attempt  to  lift  Percy 
and  carry  him  off  went  for  nothing.  There  they 
were,  Percy  dead  and  Elliston  dead-drunk.  My 


Memories   of  Fifty  Years.  87 

father,  appreciating  all  this  from  behind  the 
scenes,  went  on,  and  improvised  some  Shak- 
sperian  lines,  adding  to  the  familiar  "Farewell, 
I  could  have  better  spared  a  better  man," 
"  Meantime,  do  thou,  Jack,  come  along  with 
me,"  and,  hoisting  Elliston  on  his  back,  he  car- 
ried him  off  the  stage,  amidst  the  wildest 
applause.  It  appeared  a  tremendous  feat  of 
strength,  the  audience  forgetting  for  the  moment 
that  Falstaff  was  not  so  heavy  as  he  looked. 
All  the  ill  temper  caused  by  his  drunkenness 
immediately  left  them  and  they  roared  with 
laughter. 

Poor  Elliston  at  last  was  so  overcome  with  the 
gout  that  he  could  not  act  at  all.  He  was  then 
lessee  of  Drury  Lane  and  my  father  was  his 
stage-manager,  appearing  in  Elliston's  old  parts, 
Captain  Absolute,  Charles  Surface  and  the  like. 
At  that  time  there  was  no  zoological  garden  in 
London,  but  there  was  a  place  called  Exeter 
Change,  in  which  were  kept  a  lot  of  monkeys  and 
parrots,  a  few  wild  animals,  some  lions  (par- 
ticularly the  lion  Wallace,  who  fought  the  six 
bull-dogs),  and,  if  not  the  first,  very  nearly  the 


88  Memories    of  Fifty  Years. 

first  elephant  that  was  ever  exhibited  alive  in 
England.  They  did  not  know  as  much  about 
taking  care  of  animals  then  as  they  do  now,  and 
this  elephant  went  mad,  and  became  so  danger- 
ous that  it  was  feared  he  would  break  out  of  his 
cage  and  do  bodily  damage  to  his  keepers  and 
the  public,  and  it  was  determined  he  should  be 
killed.  A  dozen  men  were  sent  from  the  bar- 
racks of  the  Foot  Guards,  who  fired  five  or  six 
volleys  into  the  poor  beast  before  they  finished 
him. 

At  that  time  "  The  Belle's  Stratagem  "  was 
being  played  with  my  father  as  Doricourt,  one 
of  Elliston's  great  parts.  Elliston  was  in  the 
habit  of  going  to  the  theatre  every  night,  par- 
ticularly if  one  of  his  own  celebrated  characters 
was  performed,  and  being  wheeled  down  to  the 
prompter's  place  in  an  invalid's  chair,  he  would 
sit  and  watch  all  that  was  going  on.  In  the 
mad  scene  in  "  The  Belle's  Stratagem  "  Doriconrt, 
who  is  feigning  insanity,  has  a  little  extravagant 
"  business,"  and,  at  a  certain  exit,  he  utters  some 
wildly  absurd  nonsense  such  as,  "  Bring  me  a 
pigeon  pie  of  snakes."  On  the  night  in  question, 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  89 

when  the  town  talked  of  nothing  but  the  great 
brute  who  had  been  killed  by  the  soldiers  the  day 
before,  my  father  on  his  exit  after  the  mad  scene 
shouted  :  "  Bring  me  a  pickled  elephant!  "  to  the 
delight  of  the  easily  pleased  house,  but  to  the 
disgust  of  the  sensitive  Elliston,  who,  shaking 
his  gouty  fist  at  him,  cried  :  "  Damn  it,  you  lucky 
rascal ;  they  never  killed  an  elephant  for  me  when 
/played  Doric  our  t  !  " 

Many  people  think  that  the  first  man  who  ever 
made  a  great  impression  as  a  tamer  of  wild  ani- 
mals was  Vanamburgh;  but  long  previous  to  his 
time,  and  when  I  was  quite  a  child,  there  was  a 
Monsieur  Martin  who  played  in  a  piece  at  Drury 
Lane  Theatre  called  "  Hyder  Ali,  or  the  Lions 
of  Mysore."  My  uncle,  Henry  Wallack,  was  Hyder 
Ali,  an  historical  character.  In  this  play  there 
were  things  done  quite  as  extraordinary  as  have 
ever  been  accomplished  by  any  lion-tamer  since. 
I  remember  it  all  perfectly  well.  There  was  one 
scene  in  which  Martin  came  on,  and  managed 
most  admirably  a  fight  between  himself  and  two 
boa-constrictors.  Although  they  must  have  been 
in  a  comparatively  torpid  state,  as  it  is  said  they 


90  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


arc  when  being  handled,  he  managed  the  combat 
so  beautifully  that  the  reptiles  seemed  absolutely 
to  be  trying  to  strangle  him;  and  the  people 
shouted  with  applause.  Then  there  was  another 
scene  in  which  he  was  attacked  by  the  retainers 
of  Hydcr  All,  He  played  a  sort  of  Hindoo,  who 
supported  the  English  troops.  The  soldiers  of 
Hydcr  Ali  made  a  rush  for  him,  while  two  great 
lions,  one  on  each  side  of  him,  stood  at  bay,  and, 
as  the  men  advanced  with  their  spears,  flew  at 
them  like  fiends.  The  applause  was  deafening, 
as  much  for  the  soldiers  as  for  the  lions,  the 
audience  wondering  what  could  make  these  super- 
numeraries so  marvellously  valiant.  The  reason, 
however,  was  simple  enough :  there  was  a  net- 
work of  wire,  fine  but  very  strong,  between  the 
brutes  and  the  soldiers,  upon  which  the  lights  were 
so  ingeniously  arranged  that  it  was  quite  invisible 
from  the  auditorium.  The  lions  could  advance 
no  further  than  this,  of  course,  and  as  their 
enemies  retreated  would  stop  and  growl  at  them 
in  the  most  approved  leonine  way.  There  were 
two  or  three  spaces  left  for  the  spears  to  go 
through,  and  they  had  been  taught  when  they 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  91 

saw  one  of  these,  to  seize  it  and  shiver  it  into 
splinters  ;  and  then  the  people  went  wild  with  ap- 
plause. Martin  was  the  most  extraordinary  man 
I  ever  saw  with  animals.  My  uncle,  Henry 
Wallack,  as  Hyder  Alt,  was  supposed  to  have  re- 
pulsed the  British,  and  there  was  a  magnificent 
procession  of  soldiers,  one  hundred  and  fifty  at 
least.  As  the  curtain  was  about  to  fall  Hydcr 
All  came  out  mounted  on  a  great  big  elephant, 
who  marched  to  the  music  down  to  the  footlights, 
and  there  stood  perfectly  still,  my  uncle  Harry 
with  his  umbrella-bearer  behind  him  looking  very 
picturesque.  The  piece  ended  with  this  display. 
I  remember  perfectly  well  their  putting  extra 
props  under  the  stage  to  keep  these  heavy  ani- 
mals from  going  through. 

My  father  was  still  stage-manager  of  Drury 
Lane  in  1827,  when  Edmund  Kean  withdrew  his 
allegiance  from  that  house  to  Covent  Garden,  to 
the  great  indignation  of  Stephen  Price,  the  lessee. 
Kean  had  placed  his  son  Charles  at  Eton  and  was 
bringing  him  up  for  the  Army,  or  the  Church,  or 
some  swell  profession,  and  Price  was  determined, 
knowing  the  boy  had  a  tremendous  predilection 


92  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

for  the  theatre,  that  he  would  stick  a  thorn  in 
Edmund  Kean's  side.  Consequently  he  sent  my 
father  down  to  Eton  to  see  the  lad ;  —  and  the  re- 
sult was  that  he  was  brought  up  from  school  and 
persuaded  to  go  upon  the  stage  by  Price,  who 
had  succeeded  in  arousing  his  ambition  ;  and  as 
at  that  time  the  elder  Kean  was  treating  his  wife 
very  badly,  Charles,  of  course,  was 
less  inclined  to  obey  his  father. 
When  the  advertisements  came  out 
that  Kean's  son  was  going  to  ap- 
pear at  Drury  Lane  Theatre  the 
sensation  with  the  public  was  some- 
thing enormous  ;  the  simple  an- 
nouncemcnt  affecting  Kean's  houses 
at  Covent  Garden.  The  lad  came  out  as  Young 
Nori>al\\\  Home's  tragedy  of"  Douglas,"  and  my 
father  played  Glenalvon.  He  dressed  Kean  and 
absolutely  "shoved"  him  upon  the  stage,  for  he 
was  very  nervous ;  —  but  he  played  that  night  to 
a  tremendous  house  and  to  a  great  reception.  Of 
course  it  was  a  very  crude  performance,  and  the 
endeavor  to  imitate  his  father  in  all  the  passion- 
ate scenes  was  palpable  throughout.  For  a  few 


^frf+cA, 


r/       ?CdLSL*~>*' 


r 


I 


Memories    of  Fifty  Years.  95 


nights  the  curiosity  of  the  town  crowded  the 
house,  but  the  excitement  did  not  continue,  and 
he  went  to  the  provinces  with  varying  success. 

Charles  was  always  devoted  to  his  mother. 
She  travelled  about  with  him  in  his  early  days, 
after  his  father's  death,  and  when  he  was  be- 
tween twenty-five  and  thirty  years  of  age  ;  and 
he  worked  hard  to  make  a  mere  living  for  the 
two.  During  his  visits  to  Brighton  he  was  a 
frequent  guest  at  my  father's  house,  where  he 
was  sincerely  liked.  On  one  occasion  it  chanced 
that  the  Duchess  of  St.  Albans  was  at  Brighton 
while  he  was  playing  an  engagement  there. 
Moved  by  an  affectionate  feeling  for  the  father, 
with  whom  (when  Miss  Mellon)  she  had  often 
acted,  she  went  to  the  theatre  to  see  the  son ; 
and  from  the  moment  she  saw  Charles  his  for- 
tune was  made.  She  said:  "This  young  man 
shall  go  to  the  top  of  the  tree,"  and  he  did. 
Her  influence  in  Brighton  was  all-powerful. 
Her  tradespeople,  with  their  families,  filled  the 
pit,  and  their  working  people  filled  the  galleries. 
She  made  parties  for  him,  and  even  sent  the 
Duke  himself  to  call  for  him  at  the  Ship  Hotel, 


96  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


where  he  was  staying.  The  Duchess  was  the 
queen  of  fashion,  and  of  course  Kean  at  once 
became  popular.  This  led  to  his  reappearance 
in  London. 

I  remember  being  in  Kean's  dressing-room  in 
Brighton  when  Bunn  came   in  to  conclude  the 
London   engagement.      Bunn.    said :   "  Don't   be 
alarmed;     your   success   is   cer- 
tain.    Your  'Is  't  the  King?'  in 
'Hamlet'     is     what    will    bring 
them."     When  Bunn  went  out, 
Kean,  who   was   the   most  sus- 
picious fellow  I  ever  saw,  said  : 
"  Is  that  man  serious ;  is  that  man 
sincere  ?  "    I  don't  think  that  in 
those  days  he  had  faith  in  any- 
MRS.  CHARLES  KEAN.         bodyexcept  Cole,  his  biographer. 
He   subsequently  became  very  intimate  with 
the  St.  Albans  family,  which  included  the  niece, 
Miss    Burdctt-Coutts;    and   when    the    Duchess 
died  the  story  went  around  that  Kean  would  have 
no  difficulty  in  winning  the  hand  of  the  great 
heiress.       Miss  Ellen  Tree,  who  was  acting  with 
him,    according     to    rumor    had    been    in    love 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  97 

with  him  for  years.  He  came  into  the  theatre, 
at  Dublin,  one  night  and  said  abruptly :  "  Ellen, 
if  you  wish  to  marry  me,  to-morrow  or  never!" 
He  was  in  a  white  heat  of  passion,  and  the  story 
was  that  he  had  just  received  a  flat  rejection  from 
Miss  Burdett-Coutts.  Kean  and  Miss  Tree  were 
married  the  very  next  day,  and  on  that  night, 
by  a  curious  coincidence,  they  acted  in  "The 
Honeymoon"  together.  This  story  was  current 
at  the  time;  I  give  it  as  I  heard  it,  but  cannot 
vouch  for  its  absolute  truth. 

Douglas  Jerrold  was  a  great  enemy  of  Charles 
Kean.  There  was  some  feud 
between  them  ;  what,  I  do  not 
know;  but  he  never  could  en- 
dure Charles,  and  invariably 
spoke  of  him  as  "the  son  of 
his  father."  Macready,  who 
admired  the  genius  of  the  elder 
Kean,  would  not  have  the 

*  ,  DOUGLAS   JERROI.D. 

younger  at  any  price,  and  used 
to  refer  to  him,  before  his  London  appearance,  as 
"that  young  man  who  goes  about  the  country." 
Jerrold  wrote  "The  Rent  Day,"  and  the  plan 


98  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


of  the  scenery  was  taken  from  Sir  David  Wil- 
kie's  great  pictures,  "The  Rent  Day"  and  "Dis- 
training for  Rent."  The  part  of  Martin  Heywood 
was  written  for  my  father.  Sir  David  Wilkie 
went  to  see  the  play  and  cried  like  a  baby  over 
it.  I  have  a  letter  he  wrote  to  the  then  lessee 
of  the  theatre  about  acting.  He  subsequently 
sent  my  father  one  of  the  engravings,  with  his 
autograph  beneath.  I  have  the  picture  now. 
The  play  made  a  great  success  at  the  time. 

Charles  Kean's  second  visit  to  America  was 
under  my  father's  management,  in  1839,  an^  h£ 
was  to  have  acted  Richard  III.  in  the  National 
Theatre,  New  York,  the  night  it  was  destroyed 
by  fire. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

WM.  E.  BURTOX  first  came  to  this  country  at 
my  father's  instance  and  by  his  advice.  Burton 
—  as  did  very  many  of  the  debutants  from  the 
country  theatres  —  had  suffered  from  the  envy 
and  rivalry  of  those  already  established  in  the 
good  graces  of  London  audiences.  He  appeared 
in  the  metropolis,  at  Covent  Garden  or  Drury 
Lane,  as  Mara/I  to  the  Sir  Giles  Overreach  of 
Edmund  Kean.  Dowton  and  other  esteemed 
favorites  had  been  familiar  in  this  part,  and  Bur- 
ton had,  of  course,  to  suffer  the  usual  agonies  of 
comparison.  He  was  discouraged,  and,  on  the 
whole,  treated  anything  but  fairly.  In  his  de- 
spondent frame  of  mind  my  father,  who  had  met 
him  at  various  provincial  theatres  and  who  well 
knew  his  powers,  told  him  there  was  a  fine  field 
open  to  him  in  America.  Accordingly  Burton 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  103 


came  to  the  United  States.  He  appeared  in 
Philadelphia,  was  prosperous,  became  an  im- 
mense favorite  there,  and  was  also  much  appre- 
ciated in  literary  circles,  for  he 
was  an  accomplished  scholar. 
It  was  a  great  pride  and  pleas- 
ure to  my  father  to  be  the  cause 
of  his  first  appearance  in  New 
York,  and  to  bring  him  out 
at  the  National  Theatre.  His 
great  ability  was  soon  acknowl- 
edged  and  appreciated,  and  his 

WILLIAM    E.    BURTON. 

ultimate  success  when  he  took  the 
Chambers  Street  house  was  a  matter  of  course. 
This  leads  me  to  speak  here  of  William 
Mitchell,  for  a  long  time  Burton's  only  rival. 
Mitchell  was  originally  a  country  actor  in  Eng- 
land. I  am  not  quite  certain  whether  my  father 
brought  him  out  or  found  him  here,  but  at 
any  rate  he  saw  him  play  and  was  struck  with 
his  cleverness  and  quickness.  He  had  been 
stage-manager  of  some  of  the  provincial  cir- 
cuits in  England,  and  my  father  gave  him 
the  same  position  in  the  National  Theatre, 


IO4  Memories   of  Fifty  Years. 

which  was  then  at  the  corner  of  Leonard  and 
Church  streets.  It  had  been  built  for  an  opera 
house,  but  failed  in  that  capacity,  and,  when  my 
father  took  it,  as  I  have  said,  he  gave  Mitchell 
direction  of  the  stage.  I  was  over  here  on  a 
mere  visit  then  in  1838,  just  as  the  country  was 
recovering  from  the  great  money  panic  of  that 
year  ;  when  they  had  "  shin  plasters,"  as  they 
called  them,  instead  of  money,  as  we  had  during 
the  late  war.  In  the  very  zenith  of  the  theatre's 
success  it  was  burned,  and  the  company  of  course 
was  thrown  out  of  employment.  My  father,  who 
was  a  good  deal  knocked  down  at  first,  "  shook 
his  feathers,"  and  as  he  had  people  coming  whom 
he  had  engaged  in  England  he  had  to  find  some 
place  for  them,  so  he  took  Niblo's  Garden  and 
there  brought  out  John  Vandenhoff ' s  daughter, 
who  made  an  immense  success ;  which  was  very 
fortunate,  because  it  enabled  him  to  employ  a 
number  of  actors  who  would  otherwise  have  been 
idle  and  without  salaries.  When  his  short  lease 
at  Niblo's  expired  he  went  back  to  England  ;  and 
Mitchell  as  well  as  the  others  had  to  cast  about 
them  for  what  they  could  get. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  105 


Mitchell  finally  took  the  building  at  444 
Broadway,  next  door  to  Tattersall's,  and  turned 
it  into  the  Olympic  Theatre.  He  made  it  a 
cheap  house  and  inaugurated  what  was  the  first 
reduction  in  prices;  namely,  twelve  and  a  half 
cents  to  the  pit.  He  began  to  produce  travesties 
on  everything  that  was  played  anywhere  else. 
He  had  an  actor  named  Horncastlc, 
who  had  been  a  tenor  singer  in  my 
father's  company  at  the  National,  a 
fellow  who  had  some  talent  for  turn- 
ing serious  matter  into  burlesque. 
When,  for  instance,  the  opera  of 
"  Zampa,  the  Red  Corsair,"  was 
brought  out,  they  travestied  it  and 
called  it  "  Sam  Parr  and  his  Red, 
Coarse  Hair."  This  was  the  beginning  of  Mitch- 
ell's prosperity.  He  displayed  immense  activity 
in  getting  everything  new  which  was  farcical  and 
burlesque.  He  was  ahead  of  everybody  else, 
and  the  consequence  was  that  his  house  was 
crowded  every  night.  I  rather  think  that  under 
his  management  Chanfrau  first  came  out  as 
Mose.  Mitchell  used  to  talk  to  the  boys  in  the 


CHANFRAU. 


106  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


pit,  who  paid  their  shilling  for  admission,  and 
if  they  were  particularly  noisy,  or  misbehaved 
themselves  in  any  way,  he  would  go  on  and 
make  a  speech,  saying,  perhaps,  "  Boys,  if 
you  don't  behave  I  '11  raise  the  price  to  a 
quarter,  as  sure  as  you  live  !  "  A  very  effectual 
threat. 

The  first  serious  check  Mitchell  received  was 
from  Burton,  who  was  a  very  shrewd  and  exceed- 
ingly clever  man.  He  saw  from  a  distance,  from 

his  eyrie  in  Philadelphia,  what  Mitchell  was  doing ; 

• 
and  he  came  here  and  took  the  Chambers  Street 

Theatre,  before  long  completely  smothering 
Mitchell  by  doing  the  things  he  did ;  only  doing 
them  much 'better.  He  was  a  whole  host  in  him- 
self, certainly  the  first  low  comedian  of  his  time. 
From  the  opening  of  the  Chambers  Street  house 
Mitchell's  Olympic  went  down  ;  there  is  no  doubt 
about  that.  Burton  at  last  literally  snuffed  him 
out ;  and  that,  in  very  brief,  is  the  history  of 
Mitchell's  theatre.  Burton  took  care  to  present 
everything  with  a  little  better  scenery,  and  a 
good  deal  better  casts,  and  then  he  engaged  John 
Brougham,  who  was  worth  fifty  Horncastles.  It 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  107 

was  the  very  strongest  attraction  in  New  York 
for  a  very  long  time. 

My  father  made  thirty-five  passages  across  the 
Atlantic  in  the  old  packet  ships,  before  the  day  of 
steamers.  On  the  occasion  of  one  of  his  depart- 
ures for  America,  the  Drury  Club  —  a  branch  of 
the  Beefsteak  Club  —  presented  him  with  a  gold 
gridiron  with  a  gold  beefsteak  upon  it,  the  whole 
designed  by  Clarkson  Stanfield.  Underneath 
the  steak  the  following  inscription  by  Beaz- 
ley,  a  celebrated  wit  and  the  architect  who  built 
the  present  Lyceum  Theatre,  was  engraved  : 
"  Presented  to  J.  W.  Wallack,  Esqr.,  on  his  De- 
parture to  America,  by  the  Members  of  the 
Drury  Club,  May,  1832,"  with  the  clever  motto, 
"A  steak  in  both  countries,  a  broil  in  neither." 

He  never  could  endure  the  ballet,  and  some 
of  his  fashionable  friends  used  to  remonstrate 
with  him  on  the  subject  at  the  time  when  the 
ballet  was  an  essential  thing,  and  when  it  fol- 
lowed every  opera  as  a  matter  of  course,  being 
recognized  as  an  indispensable  finish  to  the  night's 
entertainment.  But  in  those  days  we  had,  to  be 
sure,  Taglioni,  Fanny  Elssler,  Cerito,  and  Carlotta 


io8  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

Grisi.  At  last  a  friend  of  his,  a  well-known  man 
about  town,  said  to  him:  "My  dear  Wallack,  it 
is  very  curious  that  you  do  not  see  the  beauties 
of  imagination  shown  by  the  poses  of  the  ballet," 
and  so  on.  My  father,  getting  out  of  patience, 
replied :  "  Look  here,  it  is  hard  enough  to  stand 
these  absurdities  in  an  opera,  and  though  I  can 
comprehend  people  singing  their  joys,  I  am 
damned  if  I  can  understand  their  dancing  their 
griefs." 

However,  while  he  was  the  manager  of  the 
National  in  New  York  he  succumbed  to  the 
popular  demands  for  a  dance  or  a  song  between 
the  two  plays,  for  there  was  then  always  a  double 
bill,  and  he  made  a  very  liberal  offer  to  Signer 
De  Begnis,  the  vocalist,  to  go  with  him  to 
America.  De  Begnis  agreed,  and  it  was  under- 
stood that  he  was  to  give  little  snatches  from  the 
operas  —  soq.gs  from  Rossini's  "Barbiere,"  and 
all  those  pieces  in  which  the  celebrated  baritone 
parts  occur — and  out  he  came.  At  that  time  I 
was  waiting  for  an  appointment  which  I  had 
been  promised  in  the  army,  and  my  father  very 
much  wanted  me  first  to  see  the  land  in  which  I 


SIGNOR   DE  BEGNIS. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  1 1 1 


had  been  born.  The  National  Theatre  had  fin- 
ished one  season,  and  my  father  had  gone  to 
England  to  make  his  engagements  for  the  next. 
He  brought  out  then  with  him  some  people  who 
became  very  celebrated  afterwards :  Mr.  Wil- 
son, the  tenor  singer;  Seguin  and  Miss  Shirreff. 
They  went  in  another  vessel,  but  De  Begnis 
took  passage  with  us  in  a  sailing  ship  called  the 
"Quebec."  This  was  in  the  year  1838,  and  we 
were  wind-bound  for  some  days  at  Portsmouth. 
De  Begnis  was  with  us  at  the  hotel  there,  with 
one  or  two  friends  and  members  of  my  father's 
company  who  were  to  be  our  fellow-passengers. 
De  Begnis  was  delighted  at  the  idea  of  going 
to  America,  and  extremely  delighted  at  the  idea 
of  going  to  sea ;  but  he  evidently  had  not  the 
slightest  idea  what  a  sea  voyage  was  like,  beyond 
a  smooth-water  trip  to  Dublin  which  he  had 
made  in  some  of  the  steamboats.  This  was  just 
a  few  months  before  steamers  started  running 
across  the  Atlantic.  The  ship  that  was  to  take 
us  to  America  was  at  Spithead,  Portsmouth, 
waiting  for  the  wind  to  change.  It  was  a  violent 
head-wind,  and  the  captain  decided,  as  there  was 


112  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


a  great  deal  of  business  to  be  done  with  the 
agents  at  Portsmouth,  that  he  would  not  start 
until  the  wind  was  in  the  right  quarter;  so  we 
took  it  as  easy  as  we  could  in  the  hotel  there. 
De  Begnis  made  up  his  mind  one  morning  to 
make  a  visit  to  the  vessel  at  Spithead,  about  five 
or  six  miles  from  Portsmouth,  which  he  did,  go- 
ing out  in  one  of  the  fine,  large  pilot  boats  of 
those  waters.  He  was  awfully  frightened  because 
there  was  rather  a  sea  on,  and  when  he  got 
aboard  the  ship  he  was  so  pleased  to  find  him- 
self alive  that  he  would  not  go  back.  While  we 
were  waiting  dinner  for  him  the  boat  returned, 
bringing  a  note  from  him  to  my  father,  written 
in  French  and  reading:  "Pray  send  up  to  my 
room,  get  all  my  packages  and  send  them  off  to 
the  ship.  I  could  not  dare  venture  back,  for  je 
ri aime  pas  la  dansc  die  petit  bateau  !  " 

Well,  when  we  started,  as  we  did  at  last  as 
soon  as  the  gale  moderated,  De  Begnis,  who  was 
never  for  a  moment  seasick,  was  the  most  nerv- 
ous creature  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.  When  he 
came  up  on  deck  wrapped  in  a  huge  velvet  cloak 
and  wearing  a  black  velvet  cap,  he  used  to  ex- 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  113 

press  wonder  at  everything  he  saw.  It  happened 
a  couple  of  nights  after  we  sailed  that  the  cap- 
tain, thinking  it  was  coming  on  to  blow,  sent 
aloft  to  shorten  sail.  De  Begnis  said  to  him  : 
"  Oh,  ah,  mon  Capitaine,  de  man  !  what  he  go  up 
dere  for,  why  he  go  up  the  pole  ?  "  meaning  the 
mast.  "  He  is  going  up  to  reef  the  topsail,"  re- 
plied the  captain.  "  To  do  what  ?  "  "  To  reef 
the  topsail."  "To  reefa  de  top  of  de  sail  ?  Inde 
dark  ?  Mon  Dieu  !  now  he  go  higher,  and  with- 
out a  candle  !  " 

He  was  about  six  feet  in  height, —  a  very  large 
man, — with  a  tremendous  portly  kind  of  bear- 
ing, and  it  was  all  the  more  funny  to  see  the 
awful  funk  he  was  in  if  it  blew  in  the  slightest 
degree  ;  the  only  time  he  was  really  happy  being 
when  it  was  a  dead  calm.  When  all  the  passen- 
gers were  blaspheming  at  the  delay  he  would 
say:  "Ah,  it  is  beautiful;  it  is  acallum  to-day.  I 
am  not  afright ;  when  it  blow  I  am  afright ;  to-day 
it  is  a  callum,  and  I  go  to  play  veest !  " 

I  used  to  climb  to  the  mizzentop  very  often  with 
my  book  in  my  pocket,  and  sit  there  with  my 
arm  around  a  rope  and  read  by  the  hour.  The 


ii4  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

first  time  De  Begnis  saw  me  going  up  the  shrouds 
he  said  :  "  Ha  !  look  atde  young  Wallack  !  Don't 
go  up  dere,  you  fools  ;  suppose  de  strings  was  to 
broke,  you  'd  go  to  de  devil  in  de  water  !  "  One 
night  it  was  blowing  very  hard,  and  the  ship  was 
"taken  aback,"  which  is  a  very  dangerous  thing, 
and  my  father,  who  was  an  old  sailor,  knew  what 
it  meant,  and  sung  out  to  the  steward  :  "  Shut  in 
the  deadlights  !  "  The  next  morning  it  was  all 
right  again,  the  sea  had  gone  down,  and  De 
Begnis,  who  had  been  awfully  scared,  said  :  "  I 
was  not  the  only  one  afright ;  there  was  the  old 
Wallack,  he  was  afright ;  I  hear  him  call  to  de 
steward  to  give  him  a  light  to  die  by  !  "  The 
first  day  out  we  were  what  is  called  "  on  the 
wind,"  and  the  vessel  was  lying  over  pretty  well. 
De  Begnis,  with  nothing  on  but  his  drawers  and 
shirt,  put  his  body  half-way  into  the  main  cabin 
and  called  out :  "  Steward  !  where  de  devil  is  de 
steward  !  Aska  de  capitaine  why  de  ship  she  goes 
so  crook  !  Tell  him  de  Signer  de  Begnis  cannot 
shave  !  "  He  stood  one  day  by  the  wheel  and 
said  :  "  What  de  devil  that  man  he  do,  he  turn 
de  wheel  around  ?  "  The  captain  replied  :  "  He 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  1 1 5 


steers  the  vessel."  "  What  is  dat  he  keep  a-look- 
ing  at  like  a  damn  fool  ?  "  "  That  is  the  compass  ; 
he  watches  the  compass  and  steers  the  vessel  by 
it."  "  Ha  !  dat  is  a  umpick  "  [humbug].  "How 
do  you  suppose  we  find  our  way  across  the  ocean 
then?"  asked  the  captain.  "You  get  de  ship 
by  de  shore,  you  put  up  de  sail,  de  wind  she  blow, 
and  you  go  dis  way  and  dat  way.  Sometimes 
de  straight  way,  and  after  a  while  you  get  dere 
by  chance,  God  knows  how !  And  yet  you  tell 
me  dat  de  man  he  make  her  go  straight  when  he 
turn  de  wheel  round?  Umpick!  All  umpick  !" 

Although  he  longed  to  go  back  to  his  own 
country  he  never  had  the  courage.  He  arrived 
in  the  year  1838  and  died  here  of  cholera  in 
1849.  When  I  came  over  to  make  my  appear- 
ance, ten  years  after  this  voyage,  I  found  De 
Begnis  here  singing  at  concerts  and  all  that  kind 
of  thing.  He  had  money  of  his  own  too.  He 
used  to  say  :  "  Why  de  devil  your  father  he  go 
so  often  across  de  ocean  ?  Some  day  he  go  to 
play  Don  Ccesar  de  Bazan  with  de  fish." 

Mr.  Tom  Hamblin,  a  very  old  friend  of  my 
father's,  came  to  him  one  day  during  his 


n6 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


management  of  the  National  Theatre,  and  said 
that  he  had  discovered  a  remarkable  genius. 
Hamblin  had  then  just  married  a  Miss  Medina, 
aliterary lady, and  whether 
it  was  his  wife  or  himself 
who  had  made  this  great 
discovery  I  do  not  remem- 
ber ;  but  that  does  not 
matter.  He  said  :  "  This  is 
an  extraordinary  girl ;  she 
is  the  daughter  of  a  dread- 
ful old  woman,  who  is  any- 
thing but  what  she  should 
be;  but  she  is  herself  a  charming  little  creature. 
The  old  mother  has  been  able  to  keep  her  at 
school,  and  the  child  is  a  pure,  sweet  little  thing, 
seventeen  years  old.  My  wife  has  written  an 
adaptation  of  Bulwer's  'Ernest  Maltravers,'  and 
here  will  be  a  great  chance  for  a  sensation,  if 
you  will  bring  out  the  play  and  engage  the  girl, 
who  is  now  under  my  tuition  and  under  my 
wife's  chaperonage.  We  want  to  keep  her  out 
of  this  dreadful  ditch  in  which  her  mother  and 
her  associates  are  floundering ;  and  the  mother 
has  given  her  to  us  to  take  care  of." 


THOMAS    HAMBLIN. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  1 1 7 


My  father  answered,  "Very  well,"  and  he  en- 
gaged Mr.  Hamblin  and  his  protegee,  having  first, 
of  course,  read  the  play.  He  found  that  there 
was  a  part  in  it  called  Richard  Darvil,  very 
cleverly  adapted  and  amplified,  and  that  Miss 
Medina  had  carried  the  scene  into  Italy  and  had 
turned  him  from  an  English  highway  robber  into 
a  sort  of  brigand  hero,  all  of  which  she  did  to  fit 
my  father's  romantic  style.  My  father  played 
Richard  Darvil,  Hamblin  played  Ernest,  C.  W. 
Clarke,  I  think,  was  in  the  cast,  the  little  prodigy, 
who  was  called  "  Miss  Missou- 
ri," appeared  as  Alice,  and  the 
drama  made  an  enormous  hit. 
What  follows  is  very  curious 
and  very  sad. 

There  was,  of  course,  much 
gossip  about  the  heroine,  be- 
cause of  her  decided  ability, 
her  beauty  and  her  romantic 
story ;  and  it  was  more  than 
insinuated  that  she  was  one  of  Hamblin's  vic- 
tims, and  that  Mrs.  Hamblin,  who  had  taken 
her  out  of  the  gutter,  had  written  this  part  for 
her  and  helped  create  the  great  sensation  for 


C.    W.    CLARKE. 


u8 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


her,  was  fully  aware  of  the  fact.  Well,  houses 
were  crowded.  Hamblin  was  a  general  favorite, 
and  my  father,  of  course,  was  enormously  popu- 
lar; but  the  great  thing  was  this  girl.  When  the 
play  was  in  its  zenith  Miss  Missouri  was  taken 
suddenly  ill  and  died  in  the  very  midst  of  her 
great  success.  The  old  woman 
(the  mother)  reported  that  she 
had  been  ruined  by  Hamblin, 
and  that  this  Miss  Medina  in 
revenge  had  poisoned  her.  The 
story  went  about,  and  there  was 
the  most  terrific  row  that  can 
possibly  be  imagined.  Hamblin 
could  hardly  appear,  for  fear  of 
being  mobbed.  Of  course,  my 
father  had  to  stop  the  run  of 
the  play  for  the  moment ;  and,  indeed,  I  think 
before  she  died  that  my  father  had  given  up 
the  part  of  Richard  Darvil,  Hamblin  taking  it, 
and  young  James  Wallack,  my  cousin,  playing 
Ernest  Maltravers.  I  think  my  father  had  some 
engagement  to  fulfil  elsewhere  out  of  his  own 
theatre.  At  any  rate,  the  poor  girl  died,  and  it 


JAMES  W.  WALLACK,   JR. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  119 

is  certain  that  Hamblin's  enemies  made  the  most 
of  the  matter.  But  at  last  it  all  blew  over.  I 
do  not  for  a  moment  believe  that  Hamblin  was 
responsible  for  the  girl's  death,  but  that  she  died 
of  consumption,  being  naturally  very  delicate. 

I  remember  very  well  dining  with  Hamblin 
and  his  wife  (who  retained  her  nom  de  plume, 
"  Medina  ")  during  the  following  year.  She  was 
one  of  the  most  brilliant  women  I  ever  met.  She 
was  very  plain,  but  a  wonderfully  bright  woman, 
charming  in  every  way.  Well,  while  I  was  here 
on  that  visit,  and  a  very  short  time  after  that 
very  dinner  at  which  I  was  present,  she  died  also, 
and  this  old  woman,  the  mother  of  Missouri, 
immediately  went  about  swearing  that  Hamblin 
was  then  living  with  somebody  else,  and  that 
between  them  they  had  killed  his  wife.  I  was 
at  the  Astor  House,  where  we  were  stopping 
then,  and  my  father  came  home  a  good  deal 
worried  and  flustered.  He  had  been  sent  for  by 
Hamblin,  who  was  there  with  the  corpse  in  the 
house.  A  mob  had  gathered  around  the  door, 
and  they  were  going  to  batter  it  down  and  kill 
Hamblin ;  the  terrible  old  woman  haranguing 


I2O  Memories   of  Fifty  Years. 


all  the  Bowery  people  she  had  collected  together 
for  that  purpose.  She  said  that  he  was  not  con- 
tent, after  causing  the  murder  of  her  own  child, 
until  he  had  murdered  the  murderess;  and  noth- 
ing but  my  father's  personal  popularity  quieted 
that  mob.  He  got  on  the  steps  of  the  house 
and  made  a  speech  to  them.  She  was  a  horri- 
ble sight,  this  old  woman,  with  her  long  white 
witch-like  hair  flying  about  her  face,  in  appear- 
ance a  perfect  Meg  Merrilies. 

I  remember  one  of  Hamblin's  great  parts  was 
in  the  adaptation  of  a  novel  called  "  Norman 
Leslie,"  in  which  he  played  the  hero.  He  was 
playing  that  part  among  others  when  Miss  Me- 
dina was  taken  ill.  She  was  not  the  mother  of 
any  of  his  children.  I  remember  the  younger 
Tom  Hamblin  when  the  Theatrical  Fund  was 
first  started  here.  They  used  to  have  a  Fund 
Dinner  and  the  plate  was  sent  around  ;  and  a 
magnificent  success  it  was  at  first.  I  don't  know 
why  they  ever  gave  it  up.  Once  when  Colonel 
Henry  Stebbins  presided,  my  father  sitting  on 
his  right  and  Burton  on  his  left  (they  dined  at 
the  Astor  House),  to  the  astonishment  of  the 


Memories   of  Fifty  Years.  121 

two  hundred  persons  who  were  present,  as  the 
dessert  came  on,  this  handsome  little  boy  in  a 
jacket  walked  calmly  around  the  tables  till  he 
came  to  the  chairman,  when  he  presented  a  paper 
which  read  :  "  The  widow  of  Thomas  Hamblin 
[Mrs.  Shaw]  sends  his  son  to  express  her  wishes 
for  the  success  of  the  Theatrical  Fund."  Ham- 
blin married  Mrs.  Shaw  after  Miss  Medina's 
death. 


CHAPTER    V. 

WHEN  Lord  Lytton  wrote  "  Money  "  early  in 
the  forties,  my  father  was  engaged  in  the  Hay- 
market  Theatre,  and  was  acting  with  Macready. 
One  day  he  came  to  the  house  and  said  :  "Jack, 
here  is  a  great  chance  for  you.  You  can  read 
'  Money,'  the  play  which  they  say  is  going  to 
out-celebrate  '  The  School  for  Scandal.'  They 
want  to  ring  me  into  it,  but  I  do  not  see  anything 
in  it  I  can  do."  When  I  had  read  the  manu- 
script I  exclaimed  :  "  Good  Heavens,  it  will  take 
three  weeks  to  play  it  once  through."  It  was 
terribly  long,  and  certainly  it  would  have  taken 
a  good  six  hours.  My  father  said  :  "  Macready 
and  Bulwer  want  me  to  play  Captain  Dudley 
Smooth  ;  I  have  read  the  part  but  have  not  read 
the  play,  so  you  can  tell  me  what  you  think  of 
it."  Well,  I  sat  up  all  night  over  it,  and  felt  it  a 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  123 


tremendous  compliment  to  have  a  chance  to  read 
the  comedy  which  was  to  set  the  whole  town  on 
fire.  My  father  then  read  the  play,  and  told  Sir 
Edward  and  Macready  that  he  could  not  see  him- 
self in  the  part,  and  that  he  was  perfectly  sure  he 
could  not  do  it  justice.  Macready  said  :  "  Will 
you  letmeread  the  part  to  you  as /conceive it  ?" 
My  father  of  course  consented, 
and  Macready  came  to  the  house 
for  that  purpose,  and  when  he 
had  finished  my  father  said:  "  I 
can  see  the  merit  of  the  part, 
but  I  do  not  see  the  merit  of 
Mr.  Wallack  in  it.  Do  you  think 
Sir  Edward  would  allow  me  to 
make  a  suggestion?"  Macready 
said  he  thought  so,  and  my  fa- 
ther continued  :  "  You  have  the 
very  man  for  the  part  in  the  theater — Wrench." 
The  result  was  that  Wrench  was  the  original 
Smooth  and  played  it  admirably. 

The  first  night  the  piece  seemed  to  the  audi- 
ence unconscionably  long,  and  some  of  the  very 
scenes  that  afterwards  became  most  celebrated, 


BULWER-LYTTON. 


124  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

and  most  liked,  were  hissed.  I  do  not  know  why  ; 
probably  it  may  have  been  because  of  Sir  Ed- 
ward's personal  or  political  enemies  who  were 
in  the  house,  or  perhaps  the  audience  thought  it 
too  bold  a  departure  from  the  old  style.  At  all 
events  there  was  a  good  deal  of  doubt  about  its 
success.  But  it  was  continued  ;  people  got  used 
to  it  ;  Mr.  Webster  pushed  it,  and  the  conse- 
quence was  that  it  began  to  grow  popular  after 
about  the  twentieth  night,  and  it  was  destined  to 
enjoy  a  long  run.  Years  afterwards,  when  Ma- 
cready  was  in  this  country,  he  was  asked  to  play 
the  part  of  Alfred  Evelyn,  and  he  is  reported  to 
have  replied  :  "  I  will  not  play  that  damned 
'walking  gentleman'  any  more." 

There  are  very  few  people  now  living,  strange 
to  say,  who  remember  much  of  Macready's  act- 
ing. I  do  not  know  why,  because  it  is  not  so 
long  since  he  retired,  but  I  think  that  some 
description  of  his  style  and  method  would  be 
interesting  here. 

I  was  struck  one  day  at  rehearsal  by  a  little 
altercation,  although  not  a  very  ill-natured  one, 
between  t\vo  members  of  my  company,  one  a 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


125 


lady  and  the  other  a  gentleman.  The  lady  said  : 
"  Mr.  Wallack,  may  I  request  Mr.  Blank  not  to 
reply  too  quickly  upon  the  ends  of  my  speeches?" 
I  turned  to  him  and  said  :  "  Do  not  be  quite  so 
quick  in  your  cues."  He 
replied  :  "  I  see  what 
you  mean,  Mr.  Wallack, 
but  I  have  not  been 
used  to  these  Macready 
pauses."  I  was  puzzled  to 
know  what  was  meant 
by  "  Macready  pauses," 
but  the  thing  passed  by 
only  to  occur  again,  when 
another  gentleman  of  my 
company,  who  was  relat- 
ing an  anecdote,  said  : 
"Well,  she  made  one  of 
those  '  Macready  pau- 
ses,' "  and  then  I  began 
to  think  seriously  what 
the  phrase  might  mean, 
and  on  the  next  occa- 
sion, which  was  the  third 


W.     C.     MACREAUY. 


126  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

time  I  had  heard  it,  I  said  :  "Stop,"  my  patience 
being  rather  exhausted.  "What  do  you  mean  by 
'  Macready  pauses  ?  '  All  you  people,  who  have 
never  seen  Mr.  Macready,  but  have  merely  heard 
of  him  as  an  eminent  tragedian,  seem  to  have  a 
ridiculous  idea  about  this  ;  tell  me  what  you  mean 
by  '  Macready  pauses  ?"  They  replied  :  "Well, 
we  have  always  heard  that  phrase  used,  Mr. 
Wallack."  I  replied  that  Mr.  Macready  was  no 
more  given  to  making  unnecessary  pauses  than 
any  other  actor  I  ever  knew,  and  that  if  he  did 
make  a  pause  there  was  a  purpose  in  it,  a  mean- 
ing and  a  motive,  which  was  always  evident  by 
its  effect  on  the  audience. 

There  never  was  a  man  more  effective  than 
Mr.  Macready,  and  in  certain  of  his  famous 
parts,  since  acted  by  other  eminent  artists,  I 
have  never  seen  anybody  to  equal  him.  Sir 
Frederick  Pollock  gives  no  idea  of  his  acting 
at  all.  He  does  not  show  where  Macready 
made  his  great  effects.  Macready,  if  he  was 
anything  in  the  world,  was  a  student,  and  a 
great  characteristic  of  his  acting  was  that  he  was 
always  in  earnest;  he  never  was  guilty  of  what  is 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  127 

called  playing  to  his  audience.  The  elder  Kean 
sometimes  did  this  ;  but  Macready  never.  His 
eye  and  his  heart  and  his  mind  and  his  feeling 
were  always  with  the  author,  always  what  the 
French  call  en  scene.  I  remember  in  a  play  called 
"NinaSforza,"  in  which  Miss  Faucit  and  my  father 
supported  him,  one  speech  of  his  that  greatly 
impressed  me.  His  profile  was  towards  the 
house  as  he  stood  facing  the  actor  upon  the  stage; 

4 

and  looking  directly  at  his  enemy  he  uttered  the 
most  bitter  of  speeches  as  an  aside,  making  his 
audience  understand  fully  that  what  he  seemed 
to  speak  he  only  thought.  I  do  not  remember 
any  other  actor  who  could  have  accomplished 
this  as  he  did  it.  He  had  a  marvellous  command 
of  voice.  His  even  speaking  in  its  way  was  the 
most  melodious  I  ever  heard.  In  a  whirlwind  of 
passion  I  have  known  many  voices  more  power- 
ful and  quite  as  effective,  but  I  remember  nothing 
in  really  classical  acting  anything  so  beautiful  as 
Macready  in  what  we  used  to  call  "  even-speak- 
ing." 

In    this   piece  of   "  Nina   Sforza  "    my  father 
played  a  part  called  Raphael  Doria.     The  drama 


128  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

was  founded  on  the  feuds  of  the  Donas  and  the 
Spinolas,  in  which  the  Donas  had  been  victorious 
and  had  completely  ruined  their  enemies.  This 
man  Ugone  Spinola  had  been  pardoned  by  Doria, 
who  had  made  a  sort  of  companion  of  him  out  of 
pity,  and  because  he  had  ruined  him,  and  Spinola 
followed  Dona  everywhere ;  ministered  to  his 
pleasures,  tempted  him  to  do  everything  that 
was  evil,  and  in  fact  was  insidiously  leading  him 
to  his  ruin.  In  one  scene  of  the  play  Macready 
as  Ugone  had  a  soliloquy  that  was  superbly 
given.  The  lines,  as  well  as  I  remember  them, 
began : 

"  O  Doria,  Doria, 

When  wilt  thou  pay  me  back  the  many  groans, 
The  tears,  I  've  wept  in  secret. 

When  the  red  currents  ran  Spinola  blood, 

And  all  our  old  ancestral  palaces 

Were  charred  and  levelled  with  the  cumbent  earth, 

In  irreparable  and  endless  shame." 

During  this  entire  speech  he  played  with  his 
dagger  in  a  nervous,  semi-unconscious  manner, 
drawing  it  half-way  out  of  its  sheath  and  letting 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  129 

it  fall  back,  to  be  half  withdrawn  again.  This 
action,  simple  as  it  appeared,  emphasized  most 
significantly  the  vengeful  spirit  of  the  words 
he  uttered.  It  was  a  well-written  play.  Helen 
Faucit  was  excellent  in  it  and  my  father  had  a 
very  fine  part. 

I  remember  one  night,  when  walking  home 
with  my  father  from  the  Haymarket  Theatre 
after  the  performance,  which  had  been  the  play 
of  "Virginius,"  that  I  asked  him  if  he  thought 
anything  could  be  finer  than  Macready's  acting 
of  the  titular  part.  He  replied:  "My  boy,  you 
cannot  excel  perfection  !" 

I  stood  in  front  of  the  Astor  Place  Opera 
House  on  the  night  of  the  famous  Macready- 
Forrest  riot  where  the  crowd  was  thickest,  with 
my  back  to  the  railings  of  Mrs.  Langdon's  house, 
and  when  the  military  (the  eighth  company  of 
the  Seventh  Regiment)  came  up  there  were,  cu- 
rious to  say,  a  great  many  women  in  the  crowd. 
After  the  second  volley  was  fired  I  heard  a  cry 
from  behind  me,  and  turned  to  see  a  man  seated 
on  the  railings  of  Mrs.  Langdon's  house.  He 
had  been  shot,  and  with  a  groan  toppled  over  to 


130  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

the  ground  at  my  feet.  I  afterwards  saw  him 
lying  dead  at  the  hospital.  After  the  firing  I  left 
the  porch  of  the  Union  Club,  then  in  Broadway, 
where  I  had  taken  refuge,  with  a  "  man  about 
town,"  well  known  as  "  Dandy  Marks."  We 
stopped  at  a  restaurant  on  Broadway  and  found 
there  a  crowd  made  up  of  all  sorts  of  people  dis- 
cussing this  riot.  The  town  was  in  a  fearful  con- 
dition, and  for  several  days  after  was  like  a  city 
in  a  state  of  siege.  Some  were  saying  it  was  a 
rascally  thing  that  •  the  people  should  be  shot 
down  and  murdered  in  the  streets,  and  others 
were  arguing  that  the  military  had  only  done 
their  duty.  Marks  naturally  was  all  on  the  side 
of  the  military,  because  he  commanded  a  troop 
of  horse  which  dressed  after  the  English  loth 
Hussars,  and  was  composed  of  young  men  of  the 
best  families  in  the  city.  One  debater  got  so 
extremely  excited  discussing  the  riot  that  the 
tears  ran  down  his  face,  and  at  length  in  a  sort  of 
frenzy  he  took  off  his  coat  and  began  "  letting 
out  "  at  everybody  around  him,  no  matter 
whether  his  victims  were  on  his  side  of  the 
question  or  not.  He  hit  here,  and  there,  and 


Memories    of  Fifty  Years.  131 

cracked  right,  left  and  center,  clearing  the  whole 
place  in  a  very  few  moments.  When  the  thing 
was  over  Marks  was  not  to  be  found  ;  and  I  had 
retired  early  myself! 

Forrest  in  the  engagement  during  which  the 
riots  occurred  played  Macbeth,  and  when  the 
lines  came :  "  What  rhubarb,  senna  or  what 
purgative  drug  will  scour  these  English  hence?" 
the  whole  house  rose  and  cheered  for  many 
minutes. 

Fredericks,  an  actor  who  died  recently,  was  an 
exceedingly  good-looking,  tall  and  finely  built 
man.  He  was  an  Irishman,  and  of  rather  a  cynical 
and  jealous  nature.  Macready,  who  was  always 
rather  dictatorial,  worried  Fredericks  a  good  deal 
at  rehearsals,  and  Fredericks,  on  Macready's  last 
visit  here,  chanced  to  see  him  play  Othello. 
Now  it  is  a  fact  that  the  great  tragedian's  ap- 
pearance in  "  Othello  "  was  very  opposite  to,  and 
very  much  belied,  the  beauty  of  his  acting.  He 
wore  a  big  negro-looking  wig,  and  a  long  gown, 
in  which  he  was  very  awkward;  indeed  he  looked 
more  like  a  very  tall  woman  than  a  soldierly 
man.  Fredericks  was  afterwards  at  a  party,  at 


132  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


which  there  was  a  great  deal  too  much  praise  of 
Macready  floating  about  to  please  him  ;  and  at 
last  he  was  appealed  to  for  his  opinion,  and  said  : 
"  I  have  nothing  to  say  about  the  man's  acting! 
But  he  looked  like  an  elderly  negress,  of  evil 
repute,  going  to  a  fancy  ball !  " 


CHAPTER  VI. 


WHILE  I  was  still  a  member  of  Mr.  Webster's 
company,  to  go  back  to  the  story  of  my  own 
career,  Mr.  George  H.  Barrett,  who  had  come  to 
England  to  make  engagements  for  a  new  theatre 
which  was  building  on  Broadway,  near  the  corner 
of  Anthony  Street,  New  York,  and  which  was  to 
be  called  "The  Broadway,"  went 
to  the  Haymarket,  saw  me,  and 
thought  he  had  found  the  very 
thing  he  wanted  for  America.  He 
came  to  my  mother's  house  and 
asked :  "  When  does  this  season 
end  ?  "  I  told  him,  and  he  said  : 
"  Well,  now,  what  are  you  get- 
ting here  ?  "  "  Six  pounds  a 
week,"  a  very  good  salary  in  those  days.  He 
replied:  "  Well,  I  will  give  you  eight,  if  you  will 
go  to  the  States."  It  was  a  great  temptation, 


GEORGE    H.    BARRETT. 


134  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

because  it  secured  to  me  the  first  line  of  comedy 
and  because  my  father  was  then  in  America  ;  so 
I  closed  with  him  at  once,  and  at  the  end  of  the 
Haymarket  season  sailed  via  the  Cunard  line, 
which  then  went  to  Boston  only.  There  I  saw 
my  father,  who  was  just  about  to  start  for 
England. 

This  was  the  cause  of  my  coming  to  America 
as  an  actor.  I  opened  the  Broadway  Theatre, 
playing  Sir  Charles  Coldstream,  fell  through  a 
trap  on  the  first  night  and  nearly  got  killed.  The 
stage  had  been  built  in  a  very  hurried  manner. 
Jumping  on  the  trap,  it  gave  way  and  I  went 
through,  but  fortunately  had  presence  of  mind 
enough  to  catch  myself  by  the  elbows.  I  picked 
myself  up  uninjured,  and  had  one  of  the  greatest 
receptions  I  ever  remember.  I  was  the  success 
of  the  evening,  so  the  newspapers  said.  In  those 
days  I  lived  on  Broadway,  at  a  boarding-house 
kept  by  a  Mrs.  Black  near  Broome  Street. 
Wallack's  Theatre,  strangely  enough,  afterwards 
stood  on  that  very  spot. 

The  Broadway  Theatre  was  built  by,  or  for, 
one  Col.  Alvah  Mann.  The  first  season  was 


IB  m  m  IP  m 


BROADWAY   THEATRE,    NEAR   ANTHONY   STREET. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  137 

a  losing  one.  There  was  a  succession  of  man- 
agers, things  were  going  very  badly,  and  Mr. 
George  Barrett  finally  gave  up  the  stage  man- 
agement, which  devolved  upon  Mr.  James  Wai- 
lack,  Jr.,  my  cousin  ;  it  then  came  into  the  hands 
of  Mr.  George  Vandenhoff ;  at  last  it  came  to 
Mr.  William  Rufus  Blake,  and  then  was  pro- 
duced Boucicault's  "  Old  Heads  and  Young 
Hearts,"  with  Mr.  Blake  as  Jesse  Rural.  The 
drama,  which  had  never  been  done  here  before, 
brought  up  the  fortunes  of  the  theatre  again. 
The  next  season  Mr.  Blake  was  still  stage-man- 
ager, and  we  repeated  various  plays.  Mr.  For- 
rest had  a  very  successful  engagement  there,  dur- 
ing which  I  played  Cassio  to  his  Othello.  Then 
James  Anderson  played  an  engagement,  and  I 
acted  with  him.  I  supported  Forrest  too  in  the 
"  Broker  of  Bogota,"  and  that  was  the  first  idea 
I  got  that  I  could  do  some  serious  work. 

The  fortunes  of  the  theatre  went  down  once 
more,  until  at  last  an  actor  named  George  Andrews 
got  hold  of  a  book  which  was  exciting  and  inter- 
esting the  whole  town.  It  was  Dumas's  "  Count 
of  Monte-Cristo."  Andrews  made  a  drama- 


138  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

tization  of  it,  and  offered  it  as  a  holiday  piece, 
to  be  brought  out  on  Christmas  night.  Mr. 
Blake  came  to  me  and  told  me  about  it.  I  said 
it  was  capable  of  making  an 
excellent  drama.  He  replied  : 
"The  drama  is  made;  and  you 
must  play  Monte-  Cristo. "  "Good 
Heavens,  I  cannot, "said  I.  "You 
must  do  this  or  the  theatre  will 
close,"  he  answered  ;  "  we  have 
no  one  else  to  do  it."  I  was  in 

THOMAS    HADAWAV.  &    ^^^Q   fog}^   for    J     had    neyer 

attempted  anything  of  the  kind  ;  but  I  said  : 
"  Very  well,  I  will  try  it,  and  if  I  fail  it  will  not 
be  my  fault."  The  consequence  was  an  immense 
success  —  one  of  the  first  plays  that  rivaled 
"  Richard  III."  and  "  London  Assurance  "  by  a 
run  of  one  hundred  nights.  Fanny  Wallack,  my 
cousin,  played  Haidcc  and  Mr.  Fredericks  played 
Fernand.  Hadaway  was  in  the  piece  and  played 
Caderousse,  It  was  the  great  hit  of  the  season, 
and  the  thing  that  saved  the  theatre  from  bank- 
ruptcy. It  was  from  Monte-Cristo  that  I  got  what 
celebrity  I  ever  had  in  melodramatic  characters, 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  139 


and,  singular  to  say,  most  of  the  greatest  suc- 
cesses I  ever  had  were  in  parts  which  were  a 
mixture  of  the  serious  and  comic,  like  "The 
Romance  of  a  Poor  Young  Man,"  "  Jessie 
Brown,"  "  Rosedale  "  and  "  The  Streets  of  New 
York." 

I  first  met  George  Vandenhoff  at  the  Broadway 
Theatre,  where  it  seems  he  had  made  an  engage- 
ment with  Colonel  Mann,  in  which  he  stipulated 
that  he  should  not  be  held  inferior  to  any  one  in 
the  company.  In  other  words,  he  was  to  be 
strictly  the  leading  man.  When 
Mr.  Blake  came  into  the  stage 
management  he  advocated  making 
a  star  theatre  of  it,  and  among 
other  stars  he  engaged  was  my 
cousin,  Mr.  James  Wallack,  Jr. 
The  opening  play  was  "  Othello," 
in  which  Wallack  was  cast  for 
OtJiello,  as  a  matter  of  course,  and 
Vandenhoff  for  lago.  About  half- 
past  six,  the  curtain  being  supposed  to  rise  at  sev- 
en, there  was  no  Mr.  Vandenhoff  in  the  theatre. 
They  sent  a  message  to  his  lodgings  or  his  hotel, 


GEORGE    VANDENHOFF. 


140  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

or  wherever  he  was,  to  know  whether  he  was  aware 
of  the  lateness  of  the  hour.  The  messenger  came 
back  and  reported  that  Mr.  Vandenhoff  was  out 
and  had  left  no  word  as  to  when  he  would  return. 
The  time  approached  for  the  commencement 
of  the  performance.  Mr.,  Wallack  was  waiting, 
dressed  for  Othello ;  I  was  waiting,  dressed  for 
Cassio,  which  I  was  to  play  that  night ;  every- 
body was  waiting,  dressed  for  everything.  No 
Mr.  Vandenhoff,  no  message,  until  about  five 
minutes  before  the  curtain  should  have  risen, 
when  a  note  did  arrive  at  last  from  him,  explain- 
ing that  as  his  name  in  the  bills  and  advertise- 
ments did  not  appear  in  equal  prominence  with 
Mr.  Wallack's  he  did  not  intend  to  play  at  all. 
There  was  naturally  a  great  deal  of  indignation 
expressed  on  the  part  of  the  management ;  the 
audience  were  becoming  impatient,  and  eventu- 
ally Mr.  Blake  went  upon  the  stage  before  the 
curtain  to  explain  the  cause  of  the  delay.  He 
spoke  to  this  effect  : 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen:  I  am  very  sorry  to 
appear  before  you  as  an  apologist.  We  shall 
give  you  the  play,  but  without  Mr.  Vandenhoff, 


Memories   of  Fifty  Years. 


141 


who,  not  ten  minutes  ago,  sent  word  that  he 
would  not  act  because  his  name  did  not  appear  in 
the  bills  in  equal  type  with  Mr.  James  Wallack's. 
It  has  been  left  to  the  management  to  give  you 
an  acceptable  substitute  in  the  person  of  Mr. 
Dyott,  who,  at  this  singularly  short  notice,  will 
appear  as  lago.  [Great  applause.]  We  have 
given  you  the  best  possible  rem- 
edy for  the  disappointment,  and 
we  leave  it  to  you  to  give  Mr. 
Vandenhoff  his  just  deserts  when- 
ever he  shall  appear  before  you 
again." 

The  result  of  this  was  a  very 
successful  performance  of  the 
tragedy  and  a  challenge  from 
Mr.  Vandenhoff  to  Mr.  Blake.  Mr.  Thomas 
Placide  consented  to  act  as  Mr.  Blake's  second. 
The  affair,  however,  was  patched  up  by  the  inter- 
ference of  mutual  friends  and  no  blood  was  shed. 

Mr.  Blake,  off  the  stage  as  well  as  on,  was  a 
positive  epitome  of  fun  and  humor.  There  was 
a  gentleman  in  the  company  named  Hind,  who 
came  to  him  one  day  with  the  pomposity  which 


JOHN    DYOTT. 


142  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


I  have  generally  remarked  prevails  in  a  greater 
degree  among  the  lesser  luminaries  of  the  stage 
than  among  the  greater,  and  said : 

"  Mr.  Blake,  I  have  ob- 
served an  omission  in  the 
bills  with  regard  to  my 
name." 

Mr.  Blake  turned  around 
from  the  managerial  table 
and  gazed  at  him  with  some 
surprise. 

"Mr.  Hind,  what  is  the 
omission  ?" 

"I  have  always  been  particular,  sir,  about  my 
initials;  they  are  not  in  the  bill." 

Mr.  Blake,  without  asking  him  what  his  initials 
were,  said  very  solemnly: 

"Mr.  Hind,  the  omission  shall  be  rectified." 
The  consequence  was  that  in  the  next  bill  in 
which  the  gentleman's  name  occurred  Mr.  Blake 
put  "The  Character  of  so  and  so  by  Mr.  B. 
Hind,"  which,  of  course,  caused  a  great  deal  of 
amusement  in  the  company  and  a  great  deal 
of  indignation  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Hind,  whose 


THOMAS    PLACIDE. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  143 

initials   were    T.   J.,   but    who   was   called   "Mr. 
Behind"  ever  after. 

On  another  occasion  Mr.  Blake  had  to  deal 
with  a  gentleman  of  a  somewhat  higher  style 
of  ambition,  whom  we  will  call  Jones.  On  the 
22d  of  February  a  patriotic  play  was  produced, 
which  concluded  with  the  appearance  of  the 
figure  of  Washington  surrounded  by  every  sort 
of  emblem  of  patriotism  —  in  fact,  in  a  blaze  of 
glory.  Mr.  Jones  said  to  the  stage-manager: 

"Mr.  Blake,  I  have  frequently  played  the  part 
that  you  have  cast  me  for  in  this  piece.     I  repre- 
sent  the  officer  who   carries  the 
flag  of  our   nation,    and   I    have 
always,   in  that  particular  scene 
in  which  I  carried  it,  been  accus- 
tomed to  sing  'The  Star-Spangled 
Banner.''      Mr.  Blake  replied: 

"But  a  song  here  is  entirely 
out  of  place ;  it  will  be  an  inter- 
ruption to  the  course  of  the  play,       WILLIAM  RUFUS  BLAKE- 
and  on  this  occasion  I  cannot  consent  to  its  intro- 
duction.    We  cannot  sacrifice  the  play  on  that 
account."     Mr.  Jones  replied  ; 


144  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


"Mr.  Blake,  if  I  am  to  play  this  part  I  must 
sing  'The  Star-Spangled  Banner.'  My  name 
has  invariably  been  in  the  bills  with  the  addition 
of  this  line:  'In  which  he  will  sing  "The  Star- 
Spangled  Banner."  Mr.  Blake  persevered  in 
his  denial  of  the  request,  when  Jones  drew  him- 
self up  to  his  full  height,  which,  by  the  bye,  was 
not  above  five  feet  four,  and  majestically  said: 

"Mr.  Blake,  I  wish  it  to  be  recorded  that  I 
insist  upon  being  billed  as  singirrg  'The  Star- 
Spangled  Banner.'' 

Blake  declined  any  further  conversation  on 
the  subject.  But  in  the  bill  he  wrote:  "The 
Character  of  so  and  so  by  Mr.  Jones,  in  which 
he  insists  upon  singing  'The  Star-Spangled 
Banner ! ' ' 

John  Brougham  in  the  mean  time  left  Burton 
to  go  into  management  for  himself  at  the  little 
theatre  on  Broadway,  near  Broome  Street,  built 
forhim  and  called  "Brougham's  Lyceum."  Bur- 
ton engaged  Mr.  Blake  and  myself;  and  having 
Mrs.  Russell,  afterwards  so  well  known  as  Mrs. 
Hoey,  and  also  Mrs.  Vernon,  Mr.  Jordan  and 
Mr.  Tom  Johnston,  a  strong  combination,  he 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  145 


wisely  determined  to  present  the  old  comedies, 
which  became  his  staple  commodity  for  that  sea- 
son and  the  next.  At  the  end  of  the  first  of 
these  I  went  to  England,  where  I  found  my 
father  rapidly  recovering  from  what  had  been  a 
very  serious  illness;  and  under  the  advice  of  his 
physicians  I  persuaded  him  to  return  to  America 
with  me.  During  the  season  which 
followed  our  arrival  I  was  still  ful- 
filling my  second  engagement 
at  Burton's  ;  and  all  this  time 
Brougham's  management  was,  as 
he  himself  described  it  to  me,  "a 
struggle  ;  things  continually  going 
from  bad  to  worse." 

It  having  been  ascertained  that 
Brougham  must  positively  retire  from  the  man- 
agement, Major  Rogers,  the  owner,  determined 
to  offer  the  house  to  my  father,  and  the  story 
of  the  transaction  is  rather  a  curious  one,  and 
perhaps  worth  repeating.  They  had  various 
meetings  on  the  subject  of  a  lease,  my  father 
thinking  the  rent  demanded  too  high,  and  Rog- 
ers that  it  was  not  high  enough ;  and  they  had 


GEORGE    JORDAN. 


146 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


all  those  little  disagreements  which  occur  be- 
tween people  who  are  striking  a  bargain.  They 
met  finally  on  the  stage  one  day,  when  the 
theatre  was  quite  empty  and  in  charge  of  a  jani- 
tor, and  my  father  said:  "Well,  my  dear  Major 
Rogers,  that  ends  the  affair.  I  have  made  the 
best  proposal  I  can  afford,  and  therefore  we  must, 
I  suppose,  let  the  matter  drop; 
but  although  the  house  is  not  a 
very  good  one,  not  so  full  as  I 
could  wish,  I  will  try  to  explain 
to  the  audience."  Whereupon  he 
walked  down  the  stage  and  ad- 
dressed the  empty  seats  as  follows  : 
"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  impossibility  of  a 
definite  arrangement  between  Major 
Rogers  and  myself,  I  beg  first  to  tender  to  him 
my  thanks  for  the  patience  with  which  he  has  lis- 
tened to  my  unsuccessful  arguments,  and  to  offer 
to  you  my  regrets  that  the  kind  and  flattering 
desires  that  have  been  expressed,  through  the 
newspapers  and  by  many  of  you  individually, 
that  I  should  have  the  honor  of  catering  for  your 


MRS.   VERNON. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  147 

amusement  here  cannot  be  realized."  He  then 
bowed  and  turned  up  the  stage  to  go  out  at  the 
stage-door,  when  Major  Rogers  cried:  "Stop! 
stop !  That  's  enough ;  I  consent  to  every- 
thing !  "  and  the  bargain  was  struck.  The  first 
thing  my  father  did  when  he  took  possession  of 
the  Lyceum  was  to  engage  Brougham  and  Blake, 
and  naturally,  of  course,  I  also  cast  in  my  fort- 
une with  him  and  became  his  stage-manager  and 
leading  man. 

A  lady  came  to  me  one  day  and  said  she  had 
heard  that  we  were  going  to  bring  out  a  bur- 
lesque written  by  John  Brougham  and  called 
"  Pocahontas."  This  was  a  Miss  Georgiana  Hod- 
son,  one  of  the  handsomest  women  I  ever  saw. 
My  father  was  ill  in  bed  at  this  time,  and  I  talked 
the  matter  over  with  her.  I  thought  she  looked 
like  the  sort  of  woman  we  wanted  for  the  part. 
She  had  played  in  Boston,  where  she  was  a  favor- 
ite, but  she  was  anxious  to  make  a  New  York 
appearance;  so  she  was  engaged  and  "Poca- 
hontas" was  produced  with  great  success.  The 
piece  was  immensely  clever  and  Brougham  and 
Walcot  were  delightful  in  it.  There  was  a  Mr. 


148  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


Fred  Lyster  in  the  company  who  was  spoiling 
to  do  something  more  than  play  simple  parts  in 
Wallack's  Theatre.  He  was  a  musical  man  and 
he  worked  matters  until  at  last  he  persuaded 
Miss  Hodson  that  there  was  a  gold  mine  wait- 
ing for  her  in  California.  One  night,  when  I 
had  acted  in  the  first  piece  and  was,  as  my 
father's  representative,  looking 
after  matters,  the  prompter  came 
to  me  in  a  great  hurry  and  said: 
"Mr.  Wallack,  Miss  Hodson  has 
n't  arrived."  I  replied:  "The 
first  piece  is  over ;  she  must  be 
here;  she  must  certainly  be  dress- 
ing by  this  time."  "She  has 
not  arrived,  sir,"  reiterated  the 

CHARLES    WALCOT.  . 

prompter.  1  thought  she  might 
be  ill,  and  sent  to  her  residence  to  inquire;  but 
Miss  Hodson  had  gone,  bag  and  baggage,  and  the 
position  the  management  was  in  was  a  very  pecu- 
liar one  indeed.  "Pocahontas"  was  a  great  attrac- 
tion then,  and  what  to  do  I  did  not  know.  I  went 
down  to  tell  Mr.  Brougham  and  Mr.  Walcot,  who 
dressed  in  the  same  room.  I  said:  "Gentlemen, 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  149 

we  are  in  a  'fix.'  Miss  Hodson  has  cut  and  run 
with  Mr.  Lyster  and  his  company.  All  gone  — 
I  don't  know  where,  except  that  I  heard  some 
talk  and  gossip  of  her  ultimate  intention  of  visit- 
ing California."  John  Brougham  stood  speech- 
less, holding  the  hare's  foot  with  which  he  was 
coloring  his  face.  Walcot  turned  round  and 
gasped,  "For  Heaven's  sake,  what  are  we  going 
to  do  ?  "  "I  don't  know,  but  I  '11  tell  you  what : 
if  you  are  game  we  will  play  the  piece  without 
her."  "Bless  me,"  said  Brougham,  "play  'Po- 
cahontas'  without Pocahontas? "  "Yes;  you  will 
have  to  improvise.  Get  ready  now  and  I  will 
take  care  of  the  audience." 

I  went  on  to  the  stage  and  said :  "  I  am  very 
sorry  to  appear,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  in  the  char- 
acter of  an  apologist.  You  have  seen  a  good  deal 
of  me  to-night  in  the  first  play,  and  I  only  wish  that 
the  extra  sight  you  have  of  me  could  be  accompa- 
nied by  a  more  agreeable  result;  but  I  am  obliged 
to  tell  you  that  we  have  no  Pocahontas.  Of  course, 
under  these  circumstances  we  can  but  do  what 
we  should  do;  and  to  those  who  are  not  satisfied 
with  this  fact,  and  are  not  content  to  take  what 


i  so  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


MARY    GANNON. 


we  can  give  them,  we  will  return  the  money." 
Walcot,  who  was  standing  at  the  side,  called  out 
like  a  prompter:  "  Half  the  money,  dear  boy; 
half  the  money  ;  they  have  had 
half  the  show."  But  I  paid  no 
attention  to  him  and  continued: 
"We  can  give  you  a  charming 
novelty  instead."  Some  of  the 
people  who  were  preparing  to 
leave  sat  down  again  and  all  were 
quiet,  wondering  what  was  com- 
ing. "  We  will  give  you  the  play 
of 'Pocahontas' without  Pocahontas,"  There  was 
a  shout  directly.  I  said:  "Therefore,  as  far  as 
giving  you  '  Pocahontas '  goes,  there  will  be  no 
disappointment."  The  result  was  one  of  the 
greatest  sprees  ever  seen  upon  the  stage.  Those 
two  men  were  so  clever  that  they  absolutely  im- 
provised all  that  was  required  in  verse,  and  the 
burlesque  never  went  better — perhaps  from  that 
very  fact.  Mary  Gannon  played  the  part  of 
Pocahontas  the  next  night. 

It  seemed  decreed  that  when  left  to  take  care 
of  the  theatre  during  my  father's  absence  I  should 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  i  5 1 


meet  the  sort  of  things  I  encountered  with  Miss 
Hodson.  My  father  went  to  Boston  to  play  a 
star  engagement  one  winter  and  left  me  in  charge 
of  the  theatre.  Sheridan's  "Rivals"  was  run- 
ning. Brougham  was  the  Sir  Lucius,  Blake  the 
Sir  Anthony  Absolute,  I  was  the  Captain  Abso- 
lute and  Miss  Laura  Keene  was  Lydia  Languish. 
A  short  time  before  the  curtain  was  to  rise  on  a 
certain  evening  the  prompter  came  to  me  in  a 
great  state  of  mind  and  said  :  "Miss  Keene  has 
not  arrived."  (This,  by  the  way,  was  previous 
to  Miss  Hodson's  flight.)  I  sent  to  her  house  to 
know  if  -she  was  ill,  and 
found  she  had  gone  off  to 
Baltimore  with  a  man  named 
Lutz.  This  person,  it  is  said, 
had  induced  a  lot  of  wealthy 
men  to  take  a  theatre  and 
fit  it  up  for  him,  on  condi- 
tion that  he  engaged  Miss 
Keene,  and  this  he  did. 
Before  I  had  time  to  tell  the  audience  about 
the  difficulty  a  Mr.  Meyers,  who  kept  what 
was  known  as  Meyers's  Mourning  Store,  on 


LAURA    KEENE. 


IS2  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


Broadway,  very  near  the  theatre,  and  who 
was  a  great  friend  of  Miss  Kecne's  (he  and  his 
daughters),  sent  word  to  say  that  he  wished  to 
see  me  at  once.  Although  I  was  very  busy  I 
consented,  because  I  fancied  that  he  was  privy 
to  this  whole  affair,  and  thought  perhaps  he 
might  have  some  reason  to  give  or  some  expla- 
nation to  make.  He  came  rushing  in  and  said, 
"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  I  told  him  I 
was  going  on  the  stage  to  tell  the  people  that 
Miss  Keene  had  left.  He  repliedj  "I  am  going 
out  in  front  as  Miss  Keene's  friend  to  hear  what 
you  have  to  say."  I  went  on  and  told  the  exact 
truth.  I  said  :  "I  am  very  sorry  to  have  to  ask 
your  indulgence  for  the  lady  who 
is  going,  on  a  very  short  notice,  to 
undertake  the  part  of  Lydia  Lan- 
guish. She  may,  possibly,  have  to 
read  it."  There  was  a  great  mur- 
mur, "  Miss  Keene  !  Miss  Keene  !  " 
"  If  you  will  give  me  your  patience 
for  a  few  moments  I  will  explain." 
I  continued  :  "  Miss  Keene  has  left  the  theatre 
and  left  the  city.  I  do  not  know  anything 


MRS.    F.    B.     CONWAY. 


Memories    of  Fifty  Years. 


about  where  she  has  gone,  nor  on  what  principle 
she  has  disappointed  you  to-night.  I  only  tell 
you  she  has  left  the  theater."  The  apology  was 
accepted,  the  comedy  was  produced,  and  Mrs. 
Conway  went  through  with  flying  colors  as 
Lydia.  Miss  Keene  subsequently  wrote  a  letter 
to  the  papers  in  which  she  said  she  had  gone 
to  Baltimore  because  she  had  a 
brother  who  was  very  ill  there. 
Miss  Keene's  place  as  leading 
lady  was  filled  by  Mrs.  Hoey, 
who  had  retired  from  the  stage 
upon  her  marriage  to  Mr.  John 
Hoey,  in  1851.  As  Mrs.  Russell 
she  had  been  a  member  of  Bur- 
ton's Company  for  a  number  of  years,  and  was 
a  great  favorite.  Not  long  after  Miss  Keene's 
departure  I  went  one  New  Year's  day  to  call 
on  Mrs.  Hoey  and  her  husband.  She  said  to  me, 
"I  want  to  speak  to  you,"  took  me  to  the  win- 
dow, and,  after  looking  at  me  a  moment,  added  : 
"I  am  going  back  on  the  stage."  "What!  does 
John  not  object?"  She  replied:  "He  only 
makes  the  condition,  that  if  I  go  on  the  stage 


MRS.    HOEY. 


I  54  Memories   of  Fifty  Years. 


again  it  is  to  be  at  Mr.  Wallack's  theatre,  and 
nowhere  else."  I  immediately  caught  on  to  this, 
because  Miss  Keene's  going  away  had  left  a  gap 
which  was  very  difficult  to  fill,  and  a  leading  lady 
is  never  easy  to  find.  When  I  went  home  I  told 
my  father  of  this,  and  he  asked:  "But  who  is 
this  Mrs.  Russell?"  "Mrs.  Russell  is  the  best 
lady  you  can  possibly  get.  She  has  been  off 
the  stage  two  or  three  years,  but  she  was  a 
very  charming  person  and  is  exceedingly  and 
justly  popular,  which,  after  all,  is  the  great 
thing." 

So  I  introduced  Mrs.  Russell,  or  Mrs.  Hoey, 
to  my  father,  and  the  result  was  that  he  engaged 
her,  and  she  made  her  reappearance  in  Sheridan 
Knowles's  "  Love  Chase."  I  played  Wildrake, 
and  she  Constance.  I  have  seen  stage  fright 
very  often,  but  I  never  shall  forget  the  fright  she 
was  in  that  night.  It  would  have  been  a  very 
mortifying  thing  if  she  had  made  a  failure  then, 
and  she  was  naturally  very  nervous,  but  she  soon 
overcame  it  and  was  the  enormous  favorite  she 
had  been  before.  That  is  the  history  of  her 
coming  back.  Burton  was  very  angry  that  she 


Memories   of  Fifty  Years. 


155 


did  not  return  to  him,  but  Wallack's  Theatre 
had  become  the  fashionable  place  of  amusement 
and  everything  was  going  up-town.  Wallack's 
was  almost  a  mile  above  Burton's 
Chambers  Street  house,  and  that  was 
decidedly  in  its  favor.  Then  we  went 
at  the  comedies  again,  and  Mrs. 
Hoey  very  soon  came  to  the  front 
and  got  her  old  place,  and  even  a 
higher  one.  In  fact,  on  or  off  the 
stage,  no  lady  had  ever  been  more  "ADELINE  HENR 
deservedly  popular  than 
Mrs.  John  Hoey.  When 
she  finally  retired  little  Miss 
Henriques  appeared.  She 
was  also  an  immense  fa- 
vorite. 

After  the  opening  of  Wal- 
lack's   Theatre   Burton    in- 
troduced two  admirable  ar- 
CHARLES  FISHER.  tists  to  this  country,  Charles 

Fisher  and  Lysander  Thompson,  who  first  ap- 
peared on  the  same  night  and  in  the  same  piece, 
"The  School  of  Reform,"  in  Chambers  Street, 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


in  1852.  Burton  had  a  profound  knowledge  of 
men  and  of  their  capabilities,  and  very  quickly 
learned  where  to  place  the 
members  of  his  company  to 
the  best  advantage  for  him 
and  for  themselves ;  so  much 
so  that  when  he  brought  out 
that  clever  comedy,  "Masks 
and  Faces,"  by  Charles  Reade, 
he  played  Triplet  himself,  but 
soon  resigned  it  to  Fisher, 
who  made  a  great  deal  more 
of  it.  I  have  never  seen  any- 
body who  could  ever  approach 
Fisher  as  Triplet ;  the  whole  per- 
formance was  a  gentle,  charming, 
beautiful  thing.  When  Fisher 
and  Thompson  left  Burton,  natu- 
rally they  drifted  to  the  new 
house,  which  absorbed  all  the 
stock  talent  in  the  country  at  that 
time,  including  Mrs.  Vernon,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Boucicault,  John  Dyott, 
Wm.  Reynolds,  J.  H.  Stoddart,  Humphrey 
Bland,  George  Holland,  Sothern,  Henry  and 


MRS.     BOUCICAULT. 


WILLIAM    J.    REYNOLDS. 


JOSEPH  JEFFERSON. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


'59 


Thomas  Placidc,  besides  those  I  have  mentioned 
before. 

Mr.  Bancroft  Davis,  an  old  friend  of  my 
father's,  came  to  him  one  day  at  the  Broome 
Street  house  with  a  play  which  Mr.  Tom  Taylor 
of  London,  who  knew  nothing  of  American 
theatres  or  American  dra- 
matic possibilities,  had  sent 
out  to  this  country  for  a  mar- 
ket. Mr.  Davis  wished  to  have 
it  produced  at  our  house.  I 
read  the  manuscript,  was 
struck  with  its  title,  "  Our 
American  Cousin,"  but  saw 
that  it  contained  no  part 
which  could  compare  with 
the  titular  one  —  created  by 
Mr.  Taylor  no  doubt  with 
an  idea  of  pleasing  theatre-goers  on  our  side 
of  the  Atlantic  as  well  as  his.  I  told  Mr. 
Davis  that  it  was  hardly  suited  to  our  require- 
ments; that  it  wanted  a  great  Yankee  character- 
actor  ;  that  Mr.  Joseph  Jefferson,  then  a  stock- 
actor  in  Miss  Laura  Keene's  company,  was  the 


TOM    TAYLOR. 


i6o 


Memories   of  Fifty  Years. 


very  man  for  it,  and  advised  its  presentation  to 
her.  Mr.  Davis  replied  :  "  At  any  rate  I  have 
done  what  my  friend  Mr.  Taylor  wished:  I 
have  given  you  the  first  choice."  I  said:  "I 
think  it  is  only  right  to  tell  you  that  if  the 
play  is  to  make  a  success  at  all,  Jefferson  is 
the  man  to  make  it." 

He  took  the  play  to  Miss 
Keene,  who  read  it.  She  did 
not  see  any  great  elements 
of  popularity  in  it,  but  she 
thought  that  it  might  do  to 
fill  a  gap  some  time,  and  she 
pigeon-holed  it.  She  was  just 
then  busy  getting  up  a  Shak- 
sperian  revival,  "Midsummer 
Night's  Dream."  She  had 
Mr.  Blake  with  her  and  Mr.  Jefferson,  as  well  as 
Mr.  Sothern,  who  was  engaged  to  play  such 
parts  as  I  was  playing  at  the  other  house.  She 
was  taking  great  pains  with  the  "  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream,"  in  which  these  people  were  all 
to  appear;  but  it  so  happened  that  her  scene- 
painters  and  her  mechanics  disappointed  her  in 


C.  \V.  COULDOCK. 


Memories   of  Fifty  Years. 


161 


regard  to  the  time  in  which  she  could  produce 
it,  and  she  found  that  this  would  delay  her  quite 
two  weeks.  Then  she  be- 
thought her  of  "  Our  Ameri- 
can Cousin,"  and  she  cast  Mr. 
Blake  for  Binney  tJie  Butler, 
Mr.  Couldock  for  Abel Murcot, 
Sara  Stevens  for  Mary  Mere- 
dith, Mr.  Sothern  for  Lord 
Dundreary,  with  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son, of  course,  for  Asa  Tren- 
cJiard.  Blake  positively  re- 
fused the  part  of  Binney,  which 

was  played  by  Charles  Peters. 
Sothern,  on  looking  over  Lord 
Dundreary,  found  it  was  a  part 
of  forty  or  fifty  lines,  a  sort  of 
second  old  man;  at  least  that 
was  the  view  he  took  of  it,  and 
he  went  to  Miss  Keene,  laid  it 
upon  her  desk,  and  told  her 
that  he  absolutely  declined  to 
play  it.  "  You  engaged  me  for 
Mr.  Lester  Wallack's  parts,  and  I  cannot  possibly 
consent  to  undertake  a  thing  of  this  sort."  Miss 


SARA    STEVENS. 


CHARLES     PETERS. 


1 62  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

Kecne  did  not  know  what  to  do.  She  thought 
the  play  was  a  weak  one  and  she  wanted  all  her 
best  talent  in  it,  though  Sothern  was  not  consid- 
ered a  great  man  then.  At  last  she  appealed 
to  his  generosity  and  asked  him  to  do  this 
thing  as  a  mere  matter  of  loyalty  to  her.  At 
last  he  said:  "Well,  Miss  Keene,  I  have  read 
the  part  very  carefully,  and  if  you  will  let  me 
'gag'  it  and  do  what  I  please  with  it  I  will  un- 
dertake it,  though  it  is  terribly  bad."  Miss  Keene 
said,  "Do  anything  you  like  with  it,  only  play 
it,"  and  then  Sothern  set  about  to  think  how  he 
should  dress  it.  That  was  a  time  when  the  long 
frock-coat  was  in  fashion  —  a  coat  that  came 
down  almost  to  the  heels  and  was  made  like 
what  is  now  called  an  Albert  coat  —  a  coat 
that  "  Punch "  took  hold  of  and  caricatured 
unmercifully.  It  happened  that  Brougham 
had  borrowed  from  me  the  coat  in  which  I 
had  played  a  part  called  J7ie  Debilitated  Cous- 
in in  "  Bleak  House,"  and  with  true  Irish 
liberality  and  without  thought  that  it  was 
the  property  of  somebody  else,  he  generously 
lent  it  to  Sothern;  and  that  was  the  garment 


E.   A.  SOTHERN. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  16=, 

in   which    Sothern  first  appeared   as  Lord  Dun- 
dreary. 

Jefferson  was  the  star,  but  as  the  play  went  on, 
week  after  week,  Asa  TrcncJiard  became  common- 
place, and  up  came  Lord  Dundreary.  Sothern 
added  every  night  new  "gags,"  he  introduced  the 
reading  of  brother  Sam's  letter,  etc.,  until  at  last 
nothing  else  was  talked  of  but  Lord  Dtmdreary. 
After  Sothern  had  worn  it  pretty  well  out  here  he 
went  to  London.  On  the  first  night  "Our  Ameri- 
can Cousin"  made  such  a  dead  fiasco  at  the  Hay- 
market  that  Buckstone  put  up  a  notice  in  the 
green-room,  "Next  Thursday:  'She  Stoops  to 
Conquer.' '  Charles  Mathews,  who  was  in  front, 
went  behind  and  said:  "Buckstone,  you  push 
this  piece."  "But  it  is  an  offense  to  all  the 
swells."  "  Don't  you  believe  it,"  replied  Mathews; 
"you  push  it  and  it  will  please  them  more  than 
anybody  else."  Buckstone  was  induced  to  give 
it  further  trial,  and  the  consequence  was  four 
hundred  consecutive  nights.  Sothern  told  me 
that  Buckstone  cleared  thirty  thousand  pounds 
by  it. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

I  HAVE  frequently  been  asked,  both  by  inter- 
viewing people  and  by  my  friends,  what  my 
method  of  study  is,  almost  every  actor  having  a 
method  ;  and  apropos  of  this  there  comes  in  an 
anecdote  about  Macready.  He  always  objected 
to  a  redundancy  of  gesture,  and  once  said  to  my 
father :  "  My  dear  Wallack,  you  are  naturally 
graceful ;  I  am  not.  I  know  that  in  gesture  I  do 
not  excel,  and  facial  expression  is  what  I  prin- 
cipally depend  upon.  In  fact  I  absolutely  make 
Mrs.  Macready  tie  my  hands  behind  my  back, 
and  I  practice  before  a  large  glass  and  watch  the 
face."  My  father  replied:  "Well,  Macready,  I 
suppose  that  is  all  very  good,  but  did  you  ever 
try  it  with  your  legs  tied  ?  " 

But  in  answer  to  this  question,  which  has  been 
so  often  asked  concerning  my  method  of  study, 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  167 

I  may  say  that  the  first  thing  is  to  get  a  thor- 
ough knowledge  of  the  play.  At  first  I  gener- 
ally studied  the  other  parts  even  a  little  more 
than  I  thought  of  my  own  ;  and  when  I  came  to 
my  own  I  studied  it  scene  by  scene  to  get  the 
words  perfect.  I  did  not  think  so  much  of  what 
I  was  going  to  do  with  them  until  I  got  them  so 
correctly  that  I  could  play  with  them  in  two  or 
three  different  ways.  Having  one  scene  in  my 
head  I  would  go  to  the  next,  there  being  perhaps 
two  or  three  scenes  in  one  act.  I  would  then  go 
to  work  to  perfect  the  first  act  as  a  whole.  My 
first  thought  was  to  try  to  get  the  author's  mean- 
ing ;  to  pay  that  respect  which  was  his  due  by 
carefully  following  his  text.  Having  done  that,  I 
worked  on  the  different  modes  of  expressing  the 
author,  picked  what  I  thought  was  best,  etc.,  and 
then  put  that  act  by.  Suppose  we  had  four  acts, 
for  instance,  I  would  then  study  the  second  after 
the  same  fashion,  and  so  on,  using  the  same 
method  all  through  with  the  four.  I  studied 
alone  of  course  at  first,  but  when  I  thought  my- 
self sufficiently  au  fait  I  would  get  Mrs.  Wallack, 
or  one  of  my  sons,  to  hear  me  in  the  part,  and 


1 68  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

then  play  it  in  two  or  three  different  ways  in 
order  to  see  how  it  affected  them.  While  I  was 
perfect  in  the  room,  the  moment  I  got  upon  the 
stage  at  rehearsal  the  positions,  uses  of  furni- 
ture, etc.,  interrupted  all  this.  The  use  of  these 
had  all  to  be  blended  properly  with  what  I  had 
done  before.  With  a  chair  here  and  a  table  there, 
and  the  footlights  here  and  the  audience  there, 
I  had  to  study  how  all  this  could  be  worked  in  so 
as  to  make  as  perfect  an  ensemble  as  possible. 

I  do  not  know  the  systems  of  other  artists,  but 
that  was  mine.  Of  course,  after  all  this  prepara- 
tion, when  I  came  before  the  audience  things 
would  suggest  themselves  to  me  in  the  very 
midst  of  what  I  was  doing, —  "  inspirations,"  if  I 
may  use  so  fine  a  word  ;  and  I  then  sometimes 
got  effects  I  did  not  dream  of  when  studying, 
because  I  was  playing  before  the  audience  and 
found  out  their  mood.  I  do  not  think  I  ever 
sacrificed  my  study  very  much  to  the  caprice  of 
my  audience.  I  have  done  it  at  times,  perhaps, 
and  to  a  certain  extent  in  cases  where  I  could 
execute  just  as  gracefully,  though  not  quite  so 
correctly,  and  with  equally  telling  effect. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  169 

Ease  of  study  depends  a  great  deal  upon 
whether  the  author  is  a  practical  playwright. 
The  motives  of  the  old  writers  were  so  clear  and 
their  mode  of  illustrating  their  meaning  so  thor- 
ough that  they  were  a  great  deal  easier,  at  least 
to  me,  than  the  more  modern  dramatists.  There 
is  a  sort  of  power  about  them  which  seems  to  com- 
municate itself.  Personally,  I  think  that  Shak- 
spere  is  almost  the  easiest  study;  perhaps  because 
of  my  being  accustomed  as  a  boy  to  see  Shakspere's 
plays  ;  but  he  always  impresses  himself  upon  one 
as  he  is  read,  and  we  are  more  likely  to  get 
greater  ease  of  words.  I  always  found  Sheridan 
a  very  easy  study  ;  but  I  have  had  more  difficulty, 
curious  to  say  (and  I  think  many  of  my  profes- 
sion, at  least  the  best  of  them,  will  bear  me  out 
in  this),  in  studying  the  extremely  modern  school 
of  writers  than  I  ever  had  with  the  older  ones. 
In  speaking  Tom  Robertson's  lines,  for  instance, 
one  is  talking  "  every-day  talk."  It  looks  very 
easy,  but  it  is  most  difficult,  for  if  you  are  illus- 
trating Sheridan  or  Shakspere  you  are  speaking 
in  a  language  that  is  new  to  you  ;  which  on  that 
account  impresses  you  all  the  more ;  whereas  if 


170 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


you  have  a  speech  from  Tom  Robertson  or  Bou- 
cicault  you  can  give  it  just  as  well  in  two  or 
three  different  ways.  You  cannot  in  Shakspere 
find  any  words  to  improve  the  text,  but  if  you 
say  :  "  How  do  you  do  this  morning  ?  "  or  "  How 
are  you  this  morning  ?  "  one  is  just  as  good  as  the 
other;  and  yet,  as  a  rule,  to  give  the  author's 
text  is  usually  both  proper  and 
just. 

As  to  my  study,  of  course  it 
depended  upon  how  often  I  had 
seen  a  part  and  how  familiar  I 
was  with  the  piece.  Don  Felix, 
for  instance,  I  had  seen  my 
father  play  frequently,  and  natu- 
rally it  was  comparatively  easy 
with  me.  But  take  Don  Ccesar 
de  Bazan.  Some  time  after  my 
father's  death  I  was  requested  to  play  Don  Ccesar, 
a  character  he  had  made  peculiarly  his  own,  and 
of  which  he  was  the  original  in  the  English  lan- 
guage. It  was  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  since  I 
had  played  it,  and  I  said  to  Mrs.  Wallack:  "Be- 
fore I  look  at  this  part  again  I  want  you  to  see 


TOM    ROBERTSON. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  171 

if  I  remember  anything  of  it."  I  not  only  rec- 
ollected the  words,  but  I  did  not  miss  a  syllable. 
She  laid  down  the  book  in  perfect  astonishment. 
It  seemed  to  come  upon  me  directly,  as  though 
I  had  performed  it  the  night  before.  This 
gift  of  memory  has  been  always  of  inestimable 
service  to  me. 

With  regard  to  self-consciousness  on  the  stage, 
I  have  often  noticed  that  actors  are  blamed  for 
this  as  a  fault ;  and  when  I  happened  to  see  a 
criticism  upon  myself  which  seemed  based  on 
anything  like  reason,  and  was  written  by  any- 
body worth  listening  to,  or  worth  reading,  or 
worth  thinking  of  over  again,  I  would  do  a  little 
self-questioning  upon  the  subject,  and  ask  myself 
exactly  what  it  meant,  and  how  I  should  treat, 
in  my  own  mind,  the  argument  of  the  writer.  I 
found,  particularly  in  comedy,  that  if  an  actor 
is  not  self-conscious  it  is  simply  because  he  has 
not  studied  his  effects.  For  instance,  if  I  am 
preparing  to  play  a  comic  part  I  calculate  neces- 
sarily where  I  think  the  points  will  tell,  or,  to 
use  a  common  phrase,  where  "  the  laugh  will 
come  in,"  as  it  must  come  in  if  one  is  going  to 


172  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


be  comic.  And  in  doing  that,  of  course  there 
must  be  self-consciousness.  I  have  studied  a 
line,  for  example,  which  I  felt  would  "  go  with 
a  roar,"  and  if  the  laughter  came,  there  was  the 
self-consciousness.  I  was  perfectly  conscious 
that  I  had  been  very  funny.  I  had  studied  to 
be  so,  and  I  was  so.  There  never  was,  in  my 
opinion,  a  raconteur,  from  Charles  Lamb  or  Theo- 
dore Hook  down  to  Gilbert  a  Becket,  or  H.  J. 
Byron,  or  Thackeray,  or  Dickens,  or  any  of  these 
men  who  spoke  and  told  anecdotes  at  a  dinner- 
table —  there  never  was  one  of  them  that  was 
not  conscious  that  he  was  going  to  be  funny. 
He  may  have  made  a  mistake  and  missed  it 
sometimes ;  but  as  a  rule  he  enjoyed  the  story 
with  the  audience.  Tragedy  and  comedy  are 
very  different.  If  a  man  is  playing  a  serious 
part  he  is  wrapped  up  in  it,  to  the  utter  exclu- 
sion of  the  audience  ;  but  the  moment  the  come- 
dian has  uttered  his  first  line,  and  the  laugh 
comes,  there  is  a  sort  of  en  rapport  between 
himself  and  the  audience,  and  the  thing  must 
go.  It  is  a  matter  which  Charles  Mathews  and 
I  very  often  made  the  subject  of  our  conversa- 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  173 


tions,  of  which  we  had  a  great  many,  and  he 
thoroughly  agreed  with  me.  I  said  to  him : 
"  Now,  Charles,  suppose  yourself  in  one  of  those 
great  parts  in  which  no  one  can  approach  you, 
do  you  mean  to  say  you  play  as  well  with  a  dull 
audience  as  with  a  bright  one?"  "No,"  he 
replied  ;  "  it  is  out  of  the  question  to  play  if 
the  audience  don't  go  with  you.  You  cannot 
play  a  part  with  spirit ;  and  for  me  it  is  simply 
impossible." 

A  comedian  can  never  forget  his  audience  as 
much  as  a  tragedian  can.  I  am  giving  merely 
the  experience  of  one  comedian,  but  I  know  per- 
fectly well  it  is  the  feeling  of  many.  I  know  that 
John  Gilbert  would  say  the  same  and  that  Blake 
felt  the  same.  If  I  am  studying  in  my  room  a 
serious  part  I  become  very  intense,  and  do  not 
think  of  the  applause  ;  but  if  I  am  studying  a 
comic  part  I  want  to  feel  the  fun  myself;  then  I 
feel  sure  of  my  audience.  In  fact,  to  sum  the 
matter  up,  the  actor  wants  the  audience  in  comedy 
a  great  deal  more  than  in  a  tragic  part. 

He  must  never,  however,  appear  to  be  con- 
scious of  his  clothes.  Take  a  man  like  Mon- 


174  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


tague,  for  instance.  He  was  charming  in  trouser 
and  coat  and  "cigarette  parts,"  and  wore  the  dress 
of  our  day  with  the  ease  of  a  thorough  gentle- 
man ;  but  put  him  in  costume  and  he  was  gone, 
miserably  conscious  that  he  was  awkward  and 
out  of  place.  Now,  Mr.  Bellew,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  better  in  doublet  and  hose.  His  ap- 
pearance is  romantic,  he  is  natu- 
rally graceful,  and  the  costume 
of  other  days  suits  him  admi- 
rably. Apropos  of  this,  I  must 
tell  you  of  the  elder  William  Far- 
ren,  who  was  the  greatest  old  man 
comedian  I  ever  saw.  When  Bou- 
cicault  wrote  "  London  Assur- 
ance "  his  audiences  had  never 
seen  Mr.  Farren  in  anything  but  knee-breech- 
es, silk  stockings,  diamond-buckled  shoes  and 
so  on.  His  friends  thought  he  could  never 
play  Sir  Harconrt  Courtly ;  but  he  went  to 
Stultz,  the  great  tailor  then, —  the  Poole  of  the 
day, —  and  ordered  the  most  correct  style  of 
modern  costume.  His  dressing  was  absolutely 
perfect,  and  his  manner  was  as  perfect  as  his 


H.    J.     MONTAGUE. 


Memories  of  fifty  Years.  175 

dress.  One  would  suppose  that  he  had  never 
worn  anything  but  frock-coat  and  trousers  or  an 
evening  dress  all  his  professional  life.  Sir  Har- 
court  should  be  made  up  exactly  as  a  young 
man.  Later  actors  have  made  it  too  evident 
to  the  audience  that  they  wear  a  great  bushy 
wig.  Farren  was  faultless  in  the  part,  the  veri- 
table elderly  young  man  of  real  life,  the  man 
who  had  left  off  taking  snuff  because  it  was  not 
the  thing  to  do  at  all  —  the  man  to  be  seen  daily 
even  yet  in  White's  and  at  the  club  windows. 

Talking  of  "  London  Assurance,"  I  remember 
standing  behind  the  scenes  at  the  Haymarket 
one  night  during  the  run  of  Bulwer's  "  Money," 
then  at  the  very  zenith  of  its  first  and  great  suc- 
cess, when  some  one  came  hurrying  in  and  an- 
nounced, "  An  enormous  hit  at  Covent  Garden; 
the  third  act  is  over  and  it  is  tremendous.  If  the 
other  two  acts  go  in  the  same  way  it  is  an  im- 
mense go."  This  was  "London  Assurance."  I 
saw  it  the  second  night.  It  was  really  the  first 
time  that  the  perfection  of  the  modern  boxed-in 
scenery  was  displayed  to  the  public.  It  was  most 
beautifully  done ;  I  can  see  the  whole  thing  now 


176  Memories   of  Fifty  Years. 


the  scenes  and  everything.  It  was,  as  I  have  said, 
something  quite  novel;  and  was  of  course  a  great 
success.  When  the  curtain  went  down  on  the  first 
act,  the  first  night,  there  was  a  dead  silence.  It 
is  a  very  ineffective  ending  and  the  scene  was 
simply  an  anteroom  in  which  there  was  no 
chance  for  very  great  display  ;  but  when  the  cur- 
tain rose  on  the  second  act,  the  outside  of  "  Oak 
Hall,"  there  was  an  enormous  amount  of  ap- 
plause ;  and  that  act  went  with  the  most  perfect 
"snap."  The  audience  was  in  good  humor  from 
the  moment  of  the  entrance  of  that  most  per- 
fect actress,  Mrs.  Nisbett,  as  Lady  Gay,  for  whom 
Boucicault  wrote  the  part.  Pie  describes  her  as 
the  seventh  daughter  of  an  earl,  the  baby  of  the 
family,  married  to  a  man  considerably  older  than 
herself.  Mrs.  Nisbett's  tall,  lovely  figure,  her  baby 
face,  her  silvery  laugh,  carried  the  whole  house ; 
while  the  contrast  with  Keely,  who  was  the 
original  Dolly,  was  delicious.  He  was  a  country 
squire  of  about  forty  years  of  age,  dressed  to  per- 
fection in  his  top-boots,  etc.  The  fault  of  all 
later  Dollys  is  that  they  are  made  to  look  and  act 
too  young.  The  first  cast  of  "  London  Assur- 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  177 

ance  "  was  a  wonderful  one  throughout,  even  to 
the  actor  who  played  Cool,  Mr.  Brindal;  and  to  the 
afterwards  celebrated  Alfred  Wigan,  who  played 
Solomon  Isaacs,  and  had  about  four  words  to  say. 
That  ensemble  was  one  of  the  most  perfect  I  ever 
saw.  It  had  for  that  time  a  very  great  run,  and 
it  built  up  the  declining  fortunes  of  Covent 
Garden. 

As  to  what  Brougham  had  to  do  with  the  play, 
I  have  heard  Charles  Mathews  on  the  point,  I 
have  heard  Boucicault  on  the  point,  and  I  have 
heard  John  Brougham  himself  on  the  point. 
There  is  very  little  doubt  that  Brougham  first 
suggested  the  idea  ;  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  he 
intended  the  part  of  Dazzle  for  himself.  Charles 
Mathews  was  the  original  Dazzle.  So  far  as  I 
know,  Mr.  Brougham,  for  a  certain  sum  of  money, 
conceded  to  Mr.  Boucicault  his  entire  rights  in 
the  comedy.  John  was  far  less  officious  in  the 
matter  than  his  friends  were.  They  invented  all 
sorts  of  tales ;  but  there  is  no  question  that  the 
success  of  the  whole  thing  was  due  to  Mr.  Bouci- 
cault, to  his  tact  and  cleverness  and  to  the  brill- 
iancy of  his  dialogue. 


178  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


The  speech  we  technically  call  "  the  tag  "  of 
the  play  was  written  for  Max  Harkaway,  and  of 
course  was  consistent  with  the  character  of  the 
honest  old  squire,  but  Farren  insisted  upon 
speaking  it.  Here  is  this  old  man,  this  Sir 
Harcourt  Courtly,  who  has  been  trying  all 
the  time  to  impress  upon  everybody  what  a 
virtuous  thing  vice  is,  who  has  been  plotting  to 
run  away  with  his  friend's  wife,  who  has  all 
through  been  showing  that  he  is  a  man  totally 
without  principle,  making  this  very  moral  speech 
at  the  end.  They  represented  to  him  that  it  was 
inconsistent,  but  he  insisted  upon  it.  Bouci- 
cault,  who  was  a  young  man  just  rising,  felt 
flattered  as  a  young  author  to  have  all  these 
great  people  acting  his  play,  and  was  not  in  a 
position  to  do  what  he  would  certainly  do  now, — 
say  :  "  I  won't  have  it  "  ;  and  consequently  had 
to  give  in  to  Farren. 

On  one  occasion  Drury  Lane  was  in  a  very 
bad  way,  and  when  they  were  making  engage- 
ments for  the  next  season  Farren  was  asked  if 
he  would  not,  in  consideration  of  the  poor  busi- 
ness, come  down  a  little  in  his  salary.  He  said: 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  179 

"  Certainly  not,  sirs.  Mr.  Jones  and  all  these 
people  can  be  replaced ;  there  are  others  in  the 
market ;  but  suppose  for  a  moment,  if  you  please, 
the  market  to  be  a  fish  market,  that  you  must 
have  a  cock-salmon,  and  that  there  is  but  one 
cock-salmon  to  be  had.  You  will  have  to  pay 
for  the  cock-salmon.  Now,  gentlemen,  in  this 
market  /  am  the  cock-salmon  !  " 

Therefore  Mr.  Farren,  who  really 
was  unrivalled  at  that  time  as  the 
leading  comic  old  man  actor  of  cer- 
tain parts  that  required  certain 
gifts,  certain  manner,  etc.,  carried 
his  point.  There  was  no  appeal 
from  him  at  all ;  if  they  wanted  to 
keep  him  they  had  to  give  him  WILLIAM  FARR 
what  money  he  asked,  and  also  let  him  do  what 
he  liked  with  the  parts  he  acted.  He  was  known 
as  the  "  Cock-salmon  "  as  long  as  he  lived. 

I  remember  a  curious  contretemps  of  Farren  and 
Mrs.  Glover,  the  greatest  actress  of  "old  women" 
in  her  day,  or  perhaps  in  any  day.  I  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Haymarket  Company,  and  we  were 
playing  the  inevitable  "  School  for  Scandal," 


i8o  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

which  came  along  at  some  time  in  almost  every 
season.  Mrs.  Nisbett  (Lady  Boothby),  one  of  the 
most  glorious  actresses  that  ever  walked  upon 
the  stage,  was  Lady  Teazle,  Mr.  Hudson  Charles 
Surface,  Stewart  Joseph,  I  Sir  Benjamin  Back- 
bite, Mrs.  Glover  Mrs.  Candour,  and  Farren  of 
course  a  perfect  Sir  Peter.  Imagine  if  you  can 
the  classic  Haymarket  Theatre  in  the  classic 
"  School  for  Scandal,"  with  the  classic  Mr.  Farren 
and  the  classic  Mrs.  Glover  coming  in  the  scandal 
scene  to  what  is  called  "  a  dead  stick."  But  oh  ! 
when  the  act  was  over  and  the  curtain  went  down ! 
A  private  little  scene  between  the  "  classics  "  then 
was  something  to  be  remembered.  "  A  nice 
mess  you  've  made  of  it,  Glover !  "  said  Farren. 
"  The  fault  was  entirely  yours  !  "  replied  Glover. 
"  We  Ve  played  these  parts  together  about  five 
hundred  times!  "  said  Farren.  "Then  it's  high 
time  you  remembered  the  text,"  said  Glover.  It 
ended  with  Farren  swearing  devoutly,  and  with 
the  lady  taking  refuge  in  the  traditional  hysterics, 
Mrs.  Nisbett  saying  to  me,  with  a  nudge  of  the 
elbow  :  "  Look  at  the  old  fogies.  They  are  both 
in  the  wrong  !  " 


JOHN    GILBERT. 


x  Memories    of  Fifty  Years.  183 

I  have  played  in  "The  School  for  Scandal"  in  I 
don't  know  how  many  British  cities, —  Edinburgh, 
Southampton,  Dublin,  Manchester  and  Lon- 
don,— and  each  has  claimed  in  some  mysterious 
manner  to  possess  either  the  original  manuscript 
or  an  authorized  copy,  although  the  authority 
which  authorized  it  was  never  very  clear  to  the 
unbiased  mind.  Calcraft  always  swore  that  the 
Theatre  Royal,  Dublin,  had  it  in  Sheridan's  own 
handwriting,  the  Bath  Theatre  made  the  same 
claim,  while  the  Haymarket  utterly  ignored  the 
claims  of  either  of  them.  This  same  scandal 
scene  has  been  the  subject  of  unending  dispute 
between  the  prompters  and  the  players,  even 
down  to  John  Gilbert's  day.  I  have  heard  the 
prompter  say:  "Mr.  Gilbert,  I  beg  your  pardon, 
you  should  come  on  the  right!"  "No,  sir;  I 
come  on  the  left !  "  "  Mr.  Gilbert,  the  last  time 
you  came  on  the  left !  "  "  Great  Heavens  !  Sir, 
I  've  played  the  part  a  thousand  times  and  I  think 
I  ought  to  know !  "  The  prompter's  lot  is  not  a 
happy  one. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

SOME  of  the  experiences  in  my  profession  are 
very  amusing.  There  are  many  instances  of 
misapplication  of  a  word  or  of  a  too  quick  in- 
clination to  carry  a  joke  or  a  telling  line  to  the 
audience.  There  was  an  old  actor  named  Harry 
Hunt.  He  was  a  bass  singer  and  was  the  hus- 
band of  the  present  Mrs.  John  Drew.  Hunt 
was  playing  with  us  at  the  Broadway  Theatre 
when  I  first  came  here.  The  play  was  "  Money." 
George  Vandenhoff  played  Evelyn  and  I  Sir 
Frederick  Blount.  In  the  celebrated  gambling 
scene  there  is  a  character  called  the  Old  Mem- 
ber, who  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  call  continually 
for  the  snuff-box.  When  Sir  Edward  Bulwer 
wrote  that  play  I  often  thought  how  curious  it 
was  that  in  a  first-class  club  there  should  be 
only  one  snuff-box.  The  characters,  as  they 
got  excited,  kept  taking  the  snuff-box  off  the 
table.  The  Old  Member  is  reading  the  paper  all 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  185 

the  time.  Presently  he  looks  for  the  snuff-box, 
and  it  is  gone.  He  calls  out  to  the  waiter: 
"  Waiter,  the  snuff-box  !  "  and  the  servant  goes 
to  Blount,  or  whoever  has  taken  it,  and  puts  it 
back  on  the  table.  Hunt  never  was  perfect  in 
the  words  of  anything  he  played ;  but  on  this 
occasion  he  had  before  him,  inside  the  news- 
paper, all  the  cues  and  his  own  part ;  so  he  had 
nothing  to  do  but  read  it,  and  he  was  determined 
to  be  right  for  once.  When  the  scene  is  culmi- 
nating, in  the  midst  of  all  the  confusion  and  the 
roar  that  is  caused  by  certain  necessities  of  the 
play,  the  last  thing  that  is  heard  is  this  Old  Mem- 
ber  shouting  :  "Waiter,  the  snuff-box!"  There 
was  a  momentary  pause,  when  Hunt  hallooed 
out:  "Waiter,  the  buff-snox!"  Of  course,  the 
scene  closed  with  more  laughter  than  ever  before. 
Another  very  curious  thing  of  that  sort  oc- 
curred to  me  when  I  was  playing  Charles  Sur- 
face at  Wallack's  Theatre.  An  actor  named 
H.  B.  Phillips  was  Crabtree,  and  in  the  scene 
in  which  Crabtree  and  Sir  Benjamin  Backbite 
come  on  with  the  mass  of  scandal  and  stuff  and  a 
lot  of  information  with  regard  to  what  has  pre- 


1 86  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


viously  occurred  in  the  four  acts,  they  proceed 
to  say,  "  Have  you  heard  the  news?"  and  so  on. 
They  are  describing  this  thing,  and,  of  course, 
telling  all  sorts  of  stories  that  are  not  a  bit 
true ;  and  Sir  Benjamin  Backbite,  who  is  the  first 
to  enter,  has  to  say,  "Then  Charles  and  Sir 
Peter  began  to  fight  with  swords,"  and  Crabtree 
rushes  on,  "  Pistols,  nephew ;  pistols,  nephew," 
all  of  which  is,  of  course,  false.  Sir  Benjamin 
says:  "Oh,  no,  no,  no,  no;  then  Sir  Peter  was 
wounded.  I  know  it  was  swords,  because  he 
was  wounded  with  a  thrust  in  the  seconded 
"No,  no,  no,  no,"  the  other  says;  "a  bullet  in 
the  thorax,  a  bullet  in  the  thorax,"  and  he  was 
so  anxious  that  he  said,  "No,  no,  no,  no;  a  thul- 
let  in  the  borax !  "  Very  curious  to  say,  the 
audience  hardly  noticed  this  then,  and  would 
not  have  noticed  it  at  all  but  for  John  Brougham, 
who  never  spared  anybody  (he  was  playing  Sir 
Oliver  Surface),  and  who  said  directly  :  "  What 
the  devil  is  his  borax  ?  " 

I  told  this  to  an  actor  named  John  Sloane, 
who,  by  the  bye,  was  the  original  Cassidy  in 
"Jessie  Brown,"  and  who  played  Irishman  as 


Memories   of  Fifty  Years.  187 

well  as  other  things.  John  laughed  very  much 
at  this.  Well,  when  I  went  to  fulfil  the  first  star 
engagement  I  ever  played, —  it  was  at  Charles- 
ton, South  Carolina,  long  before  the  war,  of 
course,- —  I  was  Sir  Charles  Surface,  and  Sloane, 
who  was  playing  Crabtree,  actually  thought  this 
was  a  magnificent  thing  to  do,  and  when  he  came 
on  he  said,  "  A  thullet  in  his 
borax."  He  had  told  the  story 
to  a  lot  of  people  in  Charleston, 
and  they  thought  it  a  capital 
joke.  He  evidently  considered  it 
a  legitimate  "  gag,"  if  any  gag 
can  be  considered  legitimate. 
During  my  long  career  I  have 

naturally  been  brought  into  con- 

/ 

tact    With    Some  Of  the    most    in-  SAMUEL  LOVER. 

teresting  men  of  my  own  profession  and  of  the 
world  at  large.  I  saw  a  great  deal,  for  instance, 
of  Samuel  Lover  when  he  was  in  America  in 
1848.  He  was  advertised  to  appear  at  the 
Broadway  Theatre,  and  when  he  attempted  to 
play  in  his  own  piece,  "The  White  Horse  of  the 
Peppers,"  he  was  certainly  the  most  frightfully 


1 88  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


nervous  man  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.  There  was 
a  great  house  because  of  the  natural  curiosity  to 
see  the  poet  in  his  own  play.  He  was  a  very 
intimate  friend  of  my  father's.  I  stood  in  the 
wings  when  he  came  down  as  Gerald  Pepper. 
The  costume  was  the  military  dress  of  a  cavalier 
of  the  time  of  James  II.,  the  scene  of  the  play 
being  the  Revolution, —  William  III.  coming 
over  and  turning  James  II.  out  of  the  country, — 
and  Gerald  Pepper  was  one  of  the  Irish  who  re- 
mained faithful  to  the  Stuart  king.  His  feathers 
on  this  occasion  were  stuck  in  the  back  of  his 
hat,  his  sword-belt  was  over  the  wrong  shoulder, 
one  of  his  boots  was  pulled  up  over  his  knee  and 
the  other  was  down  over  his  foot.  He  looked  as 
if  somebody  had  pitchforked  his  clothes  on  to 
him,  and  he  was  trembling  like  a  leaf.  I  in- 
duced him  to  put  a  little  more  color  in  his  face, 
took  his  hat  oft"  and  adjusted  the  feathers  prop- 
erly, put  his  sword  on  as  it  ought  to  go,  fixed 
his  boots  right,  and  literally  pushed  him  on  to 
the  stage.  Of  course  there  is  no  harm  now  in 
saying  that  it  was  one  of  the  worst  amateur 
performances  I  ever  saw  in  my  life,  and  I  don't 


TYRONE  POWER. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  191 

think  Lover  ever  acted  after  that  uncomfortable 
night. 

Maurice  Power,  a  son  of  Tyrone  Power,  played 
an  engagement  in  New  York  at  about  the  same 
time.  Tyrone  Power  was  perhaps  the  greatest 
delineator  of  Irish  character  of  the  middle  and 
peasant  class  that  has  ever  been  seen.  His 
melancholy  death  in  the  lost  steamer  "  Presi- 
dent" will  be  well  remembered  by  all  who  take 
an  interest  in  theatrical  affairs.  A  son  of  the 
Duke  of  Richmond,  who  had  delayed  his  return 
to  England  for  the  sake  of  accompanying  Power 
in  the  same  vessel,  was  also  lost,  and  I  can  well 
remember  the  many  applications  to  my  father, 
who  it  was  well  known  had  made  the  voyage  to 
America  and  back  so  very  often,  for  his  opinion 
upon  their  chances  of  escape.  It  was  his  pain- 
ful duty  at  last  to  convey  to  Mrs.  Power  the 
melancholy  news  that  all  hope  was  lost.  It  was 
the  more  touching  perhaps  from  the  fact  that 
when  he  entered  the  house  on  his  sad  mission  he 
was  confronted  by  all  the  little  gifts  that  the  chil- 
dren had  prepared  as  surprises  for  their  father 
when  he  should  arrive. 


192  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


The  sympathy  and  good  feeling  that  was 
shown  afterwards  in  England  was  as  general  as 
it  was  unusual ;  and  the  thoughtful  kindness  of 
Lord  Melbourne,  who  was  then  Prime  Minister, 
was  exhibited  in  a  very  marked  manner.  Almost 
his  last  act  before  he  resigned  the  premiership 
was  the  gift  to  Power's  eldest  son,  William 
Tyrone  Power,  of  a  commission  in  the  Army 
Commissariat  Department.  I  remember  very 
well  the  glee  with  which  young  William  Power 
came  to  announce  to  our  family  the  gratifying 
news.  He  was  well  versed  in  languages,  speak- 
ing German,  Italian  and  French ;  the  conse- 
quence was  that  his  promotion  was  unusually 
rapid.  He  served  all  through  the  Crimean  war, 
and  became  finally  Sir  William  Tyrone  Power, 
and  absolute  chief  of  the  English  Commissariat 
Department.  It  is  not  often  that  patronage  is 
so  wisely  and  successfully  bestowed. 

A  very  different  man  from  Power  was  Mr. 
Goffe,  "the  man-monkey,"  a  capital  performer 
in  his  own  way,  although  naturally  very  low  in 
the  professional  scale.  Frederick  Conway,  who 
always  stood  upon  his  dignity  as  the  representa- 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


193 


tive  of  high  and  noble  parts,  toged  Romans  and 
the  like,  was  getting  on  famously  in  this  country 
when  he  chanced  to  meet  one  night  in  a  theat- 
rical bar-room  Goffe,  with  whom  in  his  more 
humble  days  and  in  the  old  country  he  had  had 
intimate  social  and  professional  relations,  play- 
ing with  him  in  some  of  the  smaller  provincial 
towns,  and  upon  pretty  even 
terms.  Goffe  was  delighted  to 
meet  his  old  companion,  and  ad- 
dressed him  thus  :  "  Well,  now,  is 
it  ?  yes,  it  is  Convay  !  Why,  Con- 
vay,  old  man,  how  are  ye?"  "  I 
beg  your  pardon,  sir,  I  do  not 
recognize  you,"  said  Conway. 
"  Oh,  come,  I  say  now,  none  of 
that,  that  won't  do,  let  's  take  a 
glass  together,"  said  Goffe.  There  were  some  very 
swell  members  of  the  profession  around  them, 
and  Conway  felt  exceedingly  uncomfortable,  but 
he  replied  :  "  I  will  certainly  imbibe  with  you, 
sir;  I  have  no  objection."  "I  heard  you  were 
in  America,  but  I  did  n't  think  I  'd  meet  ye. 
Well,  now  we  are  together  here,  Mr.  Convay, 


F.     B.     CONWAY. 


194  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


can't  we  xmake  something  hup?  "  "  I  do  not 
understand,  sir,"  said  Convvay.  "  I  have,  at 
your  request,  just  taken  something  down,  and  I 
think  that  is  all  that  is  necessary  between  us." 
"No,  you  don't  see  what  I  mean,"  persisted 
Goffe  ;  "  there  's  money  for  both  of  us.  Suppose 
we  'ave  a  benefit  together.  You  do  a  Roman 
part.  I  '11  do  my  scene  as  the  hape  between  the 
hacts,  and  we  '11  draw  a  lot  of  money."  At  last 
Conway  lost  all  patience,  and  retorted  :  "Sir,  I 
have  endured  the  ups  and  downs  of  life  in  my 
time,  I  have  met  with  various  indignities,  I  have 
been  appreciated  and  slighted,  I  can  stand  a 
great  deal,  but  Cato  and  a  ring-tailed  monkey — 
never!" 

When  I  was  in  Edinburgh  Hackett  came  there 
to  star,  but  the  people  did  not  quite  understand 
his  style  of  humor.  He  was  very  celebrated  as 
Nimrod  Wildfire  in  a  piece  called  "  The  Ken- 
tuckian,"  and  I  remember  acting  with  him  in 
English  "  dude"  parts,  of  which  I  was  then  very 
fond.  Hackett's  great  character  was  Falstaff,  or 
at  least  he  thought  it  was.  He  used  to  bully 
the  underlings  at  the  theatre,  although  not  in- 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  195 


tentionally,  for  he  was  too  good-hearted  to  do 
anything  that  was  cruel  or  mean  ;  but  his  ideas  of 
discipline  were  autocratic,  and  he  was  exceed- 
ingly unpopular  there,  and  elsewhere,  among  the 
lower  members  of  the  companies.  He  was  play- 
ing Falstaff  in  "  Henry  IV.,"  I  remember  ; 
Wyndham,  afterwards  a  celebrated  actor  (not 
the  Wyndham  of  the  present  day),  played  The 
Prince  of  Wales ;  Edward  Glover,  a  son  of  old 
Mrs.  Glover,  played  Hotspur,  and  Davidge,  I 
think,  Bardolph. 

On  this  particular  occasion,  in  one  of  his  great 
scenes,  Hackett  found  that  his  stomach  began  to 
collapse.  He  wore,  as  all  the  Falstaffs  do,  of 
course,  an  immense  paunch,  which  in  Hackett's 
case  was  made  of  a  wind-bag.  It  was  found 
that  a  stuffed  "  stomach  "  in  hot  weather  was  a 
terrific  burden  to  an  actor,  and  at  last  some  cos- 
turner  invented  one  which  fitted  the  dress  to 
perfection,  but  was  filled  with  air.  The  wearer 
blew  it  up,  screwed  on  the  top,  and  then  it  was 
all  right.  One  of  Hackett's  enemies  this  even- 
ing had  pricked  a  hole  in  his  false  abdomen,  not 
large  enough  to  make  it  collapse  all  at  once,  but 


196  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


by  degrees,  and  Hackett  found  at  the  end  of  one 
scene  that  he  was  not  quite  as  stout  as  he  was 
before,  and  said  to  his  dressing-man:  "This  is 
not  all  right ;  I  feel  a  looseness ;  see  if  this  screw 
is  not  unfastened."  Everything  was  apparently 
in  order  and  he  went  on  again.  He  continued 
to  decrease  in  size  till  at  last  there  came  a  rush 
of  wind  and  the  stomach  disappeared  altogether, 
the  actor  finishing  the  scene  as  best  he  could 
and  the  audience  convulsed  with  laughter. 

Pat  Hearn  was  at  one  time  a  very  celebrated 
character  in  New  York.  He  was  a  brother  to 
Judge  Hearn  and  was  known  to  everybody. 
There  was  not  a  car-driver,  nor  a  hack-driver, 
nor  an  omnibus-driver,  nor  any  pedestrian  that 
frequented  Broadway  who  was  not  familiar  with 
the  face  and  figure  of  Pat  Hearn.  He  was  cele- 
brated not  only  on  account  of  keeping  the  swell 
gambling  house  of  New  York,  but  he  was  also 
known  from  his  peculiarity  of  costume.  Hat  on 
one  side,  necktie  of  satin,  scarf-pin  of  the  most 
flaming  description,  gloves  of  the  brightest  lemon- 
colored  kid,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  We  were 
going  to  produce  a  piece  which  was  written  by  a 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  197 

son  of  Bishop  Wainwright,  Wadsworth  Wain- 
wright,  which  was,  I  presume,  the  first  positive 
society  play  that  was  ever  brought  out  in  New 
York,  unless  it  might  be  Mrs.  Mowatt's  play  of 
"  Fashion."  This,  however,  was  a  decided  fail- 
ure. I  played  in  it  and  my  father  directed  the 
rehearsals. 

There  was  one  scene  in  which  I  had  to  point 
out,  to  a  country  friend  who  came  to  visit  New 
York,  the  various  celebrities  who  passed.  Here 
is  so  and  so,  etc.  And  now  and  then  there 
was  a  little  ripple  of  laughter  as  some  one  was 
recognized.  Of  course,  I  did  not  mention  names. 
Presently  I  had  to  say,  "  Now,  here  is  one  with 
whom,  perhaps,  you  may  make  acquaintance, 
although  I  would  not  advise  you  to  be  too 
closely  intimate,  because  your  pockets  may  suf- 
fer," and  on  came  Sloane  so  perfectly  dressed  in 
imitation  of  Hearn,  who  was  himself  in  the  stalls, 
that  the  audience,  one  and  all,  recognized  it  di- 
rectly, and  I  do  not  remember  in  all  my  experi- 
ence ever  hearing  laughter  continue  such  a  great 
length  of  time  as  it  did  on  that  occasion.  Sloane, 
being  an  Irishman  himself,  could  imitate  Hearn's 


198  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


brogue,  and  he  entered  with  that  peculiar  swag- 
ger which  was  so  well  known  to  all  New  Yorkers. 
Pat  Hearn  laughed  as  much  as  anybody,  although 
he  was  indignant,  not  because  he  was  represented 
on  the  stage,  for  he  rather  enjoyed  the  notoriety, 
but,  as  in  the  case  of  all  men  who  are  caricatured, 
because  he  thought  Sloane  was  not  a  bit  like 
him.  He  met  John  Brougham  some  days  after, 
and  John  said:  "Well,  Pat,  what  did  you  think 
of  that  imitation  Sloane  gave?"  "It  wuz  all 
very  well  and  very  legitimate,  so  far  as  it  wint, 
but  pfy  the  divil  could  n't  he  dress  a  little 
bit  loike  me  ?  Who  the  divil  iver  saw  me  in 
such  a  get-up  ?  The  waistcoat  he  wore  !  If  he 
wants  a  waistcoat  I  '11  buy  him  wan  and  sind  him 
wan  he  can  wear.  I  niver  would  father  such  a 
waistcoat  as  thot !  "  "Then,"  said  Brougham, 
"you  refuse  to  recognize  its  Pat-Hernity  ?  " 

The  Duke  of  Beaufort,  who  was  the  nephew  of 
the  Duke  of  Wellington,  used  to  talk  very  freely 
to  my  father  and  to  me.  Of  course  everybody 
wanted  to  hear  all  that  could  be  told  about  Wel- 
lington, what  he  did,  and  what  he  said.  For 
instance,  in  speaking  of  "  Up,  Guards,  and  at 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  199 

them,"    my    father,    turning  to    Beaufort,  said : 

"Now,  did    your  uncle    say    that "       The 

Duke  of  Beaufort  interrupted  him  :  "  My  dear 
Wallack,  when  'you  want  to  mention  my  uncle 
say  '  The  Duke ' ;  there  is  only  one  duke  with 
us,  '  The  Duke  ! '  I  have  heard  the  question 
asked,  and  '  The  Duke's  '  reply  :  '  It  is  possible 
I  might  have  said  it,  but  I  do  not  recollect  it.' 
What  he  did  do  was  to  close  up  his  glass  and 
order  the  whole  line  to  advance."  Theodore 
Hook  used  to  tell  a  very  good  anecdote  of  the 
Duke,  who  was  rather  fond  of  Hook,  and  who 
was  showing  him  over  Apsley  House  once, 
when  he  said :  "  Hook,  I  want  you  to  come  and 
look  at  this  little  bit  of  my  camp  life  I  still  have 
about  me,"  and  he  pointed  out  a  little  iron  bed, 
in  which,  although  he  was  then  past  seventy,  he 
always  slept;  when  Hook  said  :  "  I  cannot  con- 
ceive how  you  can  sleep  on  that ;  there  is  not 
room  in  it  to  turn  round."  "  Of  course  not,  sir ; 
why  should  I  turn  ?  When  a  man  turns  round, 
it  is  time  to  turn  out." 

He  had  the  power  of  going  to  sleep   at  the 
most  trying  moments,  the  Duke  of  Beaufort  used 


2OO  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


to  say,  and  with  the  utmost  calmness  and  ease,  and 
this  is  an  anecdote  he  told  my  father :  On  one  oc- 
casion they  slept  in  a  church  in  which  there  was 
nothing  but  a  long  table  and  some  wooden  chairs. 
The  staff  thought  it  necessary  that  he  should  lie 
down,  and  they  put  a  saddle,  with  a  blanket 
over  it,  on  the  table  for  his  head,  and  then  they 
put  church  candles  all  around  it  to  keep  the  in- 
sects away.  He  threw  himself  on  the  table, 
folded  his  arms,  and  said  :  "  Boys,  take  what  rest 
you  can ;  I  am  going  to  sleep,"  and  was  off  in  two 
minutes.  About  six  o'clock,  soon  after  day- 
break, some  of  his  staff  awoke  and  stretched 
themselves,  and  were  about  to  call  him,  but 
he  was  away  to  the  front,  and  had  been  gone 
an  hour.  The  Duke  of  Wellington  was  exactly 
my  father's  height,  five  feet  eight  and  a  half 
inches  in  his  stockings.  He  kept  his  figure  till  the 
last;  he  never  got  fat.  In  their  youth  Bonaparte 
and  he  were  both  beautifully  formed  men,  but 
Bonaparte  afterwards  became  very  stout.  They 
were  born  the  same  year.  He  had  a  great  com- 
pliment paid  to  him  at  his  funeral.  There  was  a 
deputation  from  every  regiment  in  the  British 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  201 

army, —  two  or  three  privates,  a  sergeant  and  a 
couple  of  officers, —  and  from  all  the  regiments  of 
the, Continent  of  which  he  was  Honorary  Colonel ; 
because  he  had  been  Generalissimo  of  the  armies 
of  Russia,  Prussia,  Hanover,  France,  England  and 
Sweden.  I  suppose  he  was  the  only  man  of 
whom  so  much  can  be  said.  His  watchword  was 
Duty,  and  to  do  his  duty  was  his  only  ambition. 

When  he  was  put  in  command  of  a  very  unim- 
portant garrison  town  in  England,  just  after  one 
of  his  great  victories,  he  said  to  the  friends 
who  sympathized  with  him  :  "  I  consider  it  my 
duty  to  accept  any  position  in  which  I  can  be  of 
service  to  my  country  !  " 

Here  is  an  anecdote  showing  the  coolness  with 
which  people  in  those  days  took  certain  matters 
and  phases  of  society.  This  was  about  the  time 
that  Vestris  lived  with  the  Duke  of  Beaufort.  One 
day  my  father  was  at  Beaufort's  place,  and  they 
went  to  the  billiard-room  in  the  afternoon  to 
play.  There  were  little  tripods  all  round  against 
the  wall  of  the  room,  and  on  each  one  was  placed 
a  little  dish  covered  with  violets.  My  father  stood 
talking  with  the  Duchess,  and  said  to  her  casu- 


2O2  Memories  of  Fifty  Ye-ars. 


ally,  "What  a  lovely  perfume  there  is  from  these 
violets."  The  Duke  interrupted:  "My  dear 
Wallack,  do  you  know  what  it  cost  me  for 
violets  for  a  certain  friend  of  ours  one  year? 
She  would  have  them  all  over  the  house,  and  I 
paid  seven  hundred  pounds  for  those  flowers 
alone."  My  father  flushed  up  and  did  not  know 
what  to  say  ;  but  the  Duchess  replied  very  coolly : 
"  Oh,  my  dear  Mr.  Wallack,  do  not  be  dis- 
turbed ;  the  Duke  must  have  his  little  amuse- 
ments." 

The  visit  of  Sir  Richard  Sutton,  in  his  yacht 
"The  Galatea,"  to  this  country  brought  to  my 
mind  an  anecdote  of  an  ancestor  of  his,  in  which 
my  father  was,  to  a  certain  extent,  concerned. 
I  don't  know  whether  the  present  Sir  Richard 
Sutton  is  a  son  or  grandson  of  the  Sutton  my 
father  knew.  That  Sir  Richard  Sutton  was,  like 
his  descendant,  however,  a  great  sportsman  and 
a  great  master  of  hounds  in  his  county.  When 
my  father  was  upset  in  a  coach  and  broke  his  leg 
near  New  Brunswick,  N.  J.,  he  was  not  able  to 
go  home  to  England  for  some  time.  But,  at 
last,  when  he  did  reach  London,  he  went  to  see 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  203 


Sir  Astley  Cooper,  a  celebrated  surgeon  of  that 
day,  who  had  the  leg  broken  again,  it  had  been 
so  badly  set.  It  was  a  compound  fracture,  and 
became  almost  a  hopeless  case  when  my  father 
heard  of  a  young  surgeon  named  Amesbury, 
who  had  already  achieved  some  success,  though 
he  was  as  yet  but  little  known  to  fame.  He 
fitted  a  very  peculiar  and  ingenious  instrument 
on  my  father  which  held  the  limb  in  a  certain 
position,  and  which,  as  the  bones  re-formed, 
had  to  be  screwed  up  by  degrees  every  day. 
This  treatment  at  last  put  the  patient  firmly  on 
his  legs  again.  It  so  happened,  I  do  not  know 
how  many  months  later,  that  Sir  Richard  Sut- 
ton,  in  hunting,  had  a  bad  fall  and  broke  his  leg. 
Of  course,  as  he  was  a  man  of  enormous  wealth, 
the  best  surgeons  wrere  consulted,  but  they  could 
not  give  him  any  hope  of  ever  sitting  in  the  sad- 
dle again.  Some  one  who  knew  my  father  hap- 
pened to  be  stopping  with  Sir  Richard  at  his 
country  place,  and  he  said :  "  Young  James 
Wallack,  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  the  actor, 
once  had  a  compound  fracture  of  the  limb,  and, 
as  far  as  I  can  tell,  worse  than  yours  ;  he  is  all 


2O4  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


right  again  and  pursuing  his  profession,  and  you 
could  hardly  perceive  that  he  had  ever  had  any- 
thing the  matter  with  his  leg  at  all."  Sir  Rich- 
ard said:  ''For  Heaven's  sake,  who  did  it?" 
His  friend  replied  that  he  did  not  know,  but 
would  advise  him  to  write  to  Mr.  Wallack  him- 
self about  it.  Sir  Richard  said  :  "  I  do  not  know 
Mr.  Wallack."  "That  does  n't  matter.  If  you 
will  write  to  him  I  am  sure  he  will  take  an  in- 
terest in  the  case."  So  Sir  Richard  wrote  and 
asked  the  particulars  of  Amesbury's  treatment, 
and  my  father  replied  that  he  could  himself 
recommend  Amesbury  heartily;  that  the  way 
he  had  cured  him  was  marvellous,  and  that  he 
was  most  grateful  for  his  skill.  Sir  Richard 
Sutton  sent  for  Amesbury,  and  what  he  had 
done  for  my  father  he  did  for  him,  so  that  in  less 
than  three  months  after  he  found  Sir  Richard 
Sutton  in  his  bed  he  put  him  in  the  saddle  again. 
Sir  Richard  wrote  my  father  a  letter  of  thanks, 
which  was  almost  superfluous,  because  he  had 
nothing  to  do  with  his  own  cure  or  Sir  Richard's, 
except  to  recommend  the  surgeon.  At  all  events 
Sir  Richard  sent  my  father  a  pair  of  pistols,  which 


Memories   of  Fifty  Years.  205 

I  still  possess.  They  are  made  of  silver  and  steel, 
and  were  found  by  an  ancestor  of  Sir  Richard's 
on  the  field  after  the  battle  of  Culloden,  in  which 
the  Duke  of  Cumberland  defeated  the  Pretender. 
They  are  beautiful  specimens  of  the  gunmaker's 
work  of  that  day,  and  evidently  had  belonged 
to  a  Highland  chief  of  rank. 

To  return  to  my  father :  When  he  broke  his 
leg  he  was  playing  a  part  called  Captain  Bertram, 
a  naval  officer  who  has  been  wounded  and  is 
confined  entirely  to  his  bed  and  his  chair ;  and 
when  he  appeared  again  he  began  in  this  same 
part  of  Captain  Bertram.  After  the  end  of  this 
first  piece,  when  his  audience  was  satisfied  that 
he  would  never  walk  well  again,  they  expected 
he  would  play  some  drunken  part,  in  which  he 
would  have  to  limp  and  stagger  around ;  but 
when  they  heard  his  voice  and  saw  him  rush  on 
the  stage,  the  same  dashing-looking  fellow  he 
was  before  he  was  hurt,  of  course  the  effect  was 
tremendous,  for  no  one  knew  that  he  could  walk 
at  all. 

When  Thackeray  was  here  on  his  last  visit  I 
was  presented  to  him,  at  the  old  theatre,  at  the 


206  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

corner  of  Broome  Street  and  Broadway.  I 
thought  him,  with  his  great  height,  his  spec- 
tacles, which  gave  him  a  very  pedantic  appear- 
ance, and  his  chin  always  carried  in  the  air,  the 
most  pompous,  supercilious  person  I  had  ever 
met ;  but  I  lived  to  alter  that  opinion,  and  in  a 
very  short  time.  He  saw  the  play,  "  A  Cure  for 
the  Heartache,"  in  which  Blake  and  I  played  Old 
Rapid  and  Young  Rapid.  When  the  piece  was 
over  Mr.  Blake  and  I  went  into  the  green-room 
and  were  introduced  to  Thackeray  by  my  father, 
who  knew  him  intimately  in  London.  I  remem- 
ber his  saying:  "  I  have  seen  to-night  an  illustra- 
tion of  what  I  have  preached  over  and  over  again, 
the  endeavor  of  the  artists  to  remember  that  they 
are  presenting,  not  only  in  personal  appearance 
but  in  manner,  the  picture  of  what  is  past  and 
gone,  of  another  era,  of  another  age  almost,  cer- 
tainly of  another  generation.  I  wish  to  tell  this 
to  you  two  who  have  presented  these  characters 
so  admirably.  I  shall  go  back  to  London  and 
say  :  '  I  have  seen  acting.' ' 

Thackeray  then  lived  with  a  very  great  and 
dear  friend  of  mine  and  my  father's,  and  they 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  207 


had  rooms  together  in  Houston  Street.  I  had  a 
house  next  door  but  one  to  them,  and  this  is  how 
I  became  so  intimate  with  Thackeray.  T-he  name 
of  this  gentleman  was  William  Duer  Robinson,  a 
member  of  an  old  and  well-known  family,  a  family 
whose  property  was  confiscated  in  revolutionary 
times  because  they  stuck  to  the  king.  Thack- 
eray, I  suppose,  took  a  fancy  to  me ;  at  any  rate 
it  was  understood  every  night  when  I  came  home 
from  acting  that  if  I  saw  a  light  in  a  certain  win- 
dow I  was  to  go  in,  and  if  not  it  was  a  sign  they 
had  gone  out  to  dinner  or  to  bed.  When  I  did 
find  them  in  we  never  parted  until  half- past  two 
or  three  in  the  morning.  Then  was  the  time  to 
see  Thackeray  at  his  best,  because  then  he  was 
like  a  boy;  he  did  not  attempt  to  be  the  genius 
of  the  party ;  he  would  let  Robinson  or  me  do  the 
entertaining  while  he  would  be  the  audience.  It 
did  not  matter  how  ridiculous  or  impossible  might 
be  the  things  I  said,  he  would  laugh  till  the  tears 
ran  down  his  face ;  such  an  unsophisticated, 
gentle-hearted  creature  as  he  was.  He  gave  a 
large  dinner,  at  which,  I  remember,  were  my 
father,  George  William  Curtis,  Mr.  Robinson, 


208  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 


myself  and  others,  eighteen  in  all.  It  was  the 
most  delightful  evening  that  could  possibly  be 
imagined.  Thackeray,  two  nights  before,  had 
been  to  see  my  father  play  Shy  lock,  and  he  said  : 
"  Wallack,  that  is  the  first  Shy  lock  who  ever 
gave  me  the  idea  of  what  an  ill-used  man  he 
was." 

On  that  evening  I  remember  my  father  telling 
a  story,  which  many  an  old  actor  here  will  recol- 
lect. It  was  the  tale  of  a  shipwreck  as  told  by 
a  clergyman  who  was  on  board,  and  the  same 
scenes  as  described  afterwards  by  an  old  sailor, 
the  captain  of  the  maintop.  Thackeray's  gentle 
and  generous  nature  was  so  aroused  by  it  that 
the  tears  ran  down  his  face.  Certainly  one  of 
the  finest  things  my  father  did  was  the  telling  of 
that  story.  George  Curtis  and  I  sang  a  duet,  I 
remember,  "  Drink  to  Me  Only  with  Thine 
Eyes,"  and  we  were  asked  to  repeat  it  three  or 
four  times.  This  all  took  place  about  the  year 
1855.  On  one  occasion  there  was  to  be  a  dinner 
party  of  four.  Thackeray  said  it  might  probably 
be  the  last  time  he  should  meet  us  convivially 
during  this  visit,  so  we  agreed  to  dine  together 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  209 

with  him  in  Robinson's  rooms.  The  party  was 
to  consist  of  Mr.  Robinson,  Thackeray,  my  father 
and  myself.  The  hour  arrived,  and  I  came  with 
a  message  from  my  father,  who  was  laid  up  with 
the  gout,  one  of  his  bad  attacks,  and  could  not 
accept.  After  waiting  a  long  time  for  Thackeray, 
at  last  there  came  a  ring  at  the  bell,  and  the 
waiter  brought  up  a  large  parcel  and  a  note  from 
him  to  say  that  a  letter  he  had  received  com- 
pelled him  to  pack  up  as  quickly  as  possible  and 
start  for  England  by  the  first  steamer,  and  he 
added :  "  By  the  time  you  receive  this,  dear 
William,  I  shall  be  almost  out  of  the  harbor.  Let 
me  wish  you  a  pleasant  evening  with  the  Wai- 
lacks,  and  let  me  ask  you  to  accept  this  little 
gift  as  a  remembrance  of  the  many,  many  pleas- 
ant days  and  nights  we  have  passed  together." 
The  gift  was  a  beautiful  silver  vase.  I  never  saw 
Thackeray  again,  but  our  short  and  intimate  as- 
sociation is  one  of  the  most  delightful  reminis- 
cences of  my  life. 

The  first  time  I  ever  met  Sir  John  Millais  he 
was  as  beautiful  a  boy  as  I  ever  saw,  with  per- 
fect, delicate  features,  and  golden  hair  hanging 


2io  Memories  of  Fifty  Years. 

down  his  back.  It  was  during  a  shower  of  rain 
which  had  driven  everybody  upon  Lord's  Cricket 
Ground  into  the  tennis-court  for  shelter.  This 
lad  had  picked  up  a  lot  of  the  balls  which  were 
on  the  ground,  and  began  shying  them  at  a  mark, 
some  of  the  bystanders  pelting  him  in  return,  as 
he  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  place,  and  I  can  re- 
member him,  as  if  it  were  yesterday,  receiving  and 
repelling  their  friendly  attacks  until  the  tennis- 
court  keeper,  taking  him  by  the  arm,  led  him 
gently  away.  On  this  occasion  we  became  ac- 
quainted, and  through  him  I  met  his  sister,  who 
is  now  my  wife.  In  the  course  of  time  I  took 
him  to  see  my  father  in  Don  Ccesar,  with  whom 
he  became  perfectly  enraptured.  He  made 
sketches  of  my  father  in  that  and  other  parts, 
some  of  which  are  still  among  my  cherished 
possessions. 

He  was  so  little  then  that  we  used  to  have  to 
put  books  on  a  chair  to  make  a  seat  high  enough 
for  him  to  sit  on  while  he  drew.  At  this  time 
he  was  drawing  and  sketching,  and  hoping  to 
become  a  painter  some  day.  Mrs.  Millais,  his 
mother,  knew  Sir  Martin  Shee,  who  was  Presi- 


SKETCH    OF   J.    W.    WALLACK    IN    CHARACTER,  '  BY    MILLAIS. 


Memories  of  Fifty  Years.  213 

dent  of  the  Royal  Academy.  She  told  him  that 
this  little  boy  of  hers  had  a  great  gift  in  the  line 
of  drawing,  and  Sir  Martin  replied  :  "  For  God's 
sake,  do  not  encourage  it.  Many  children  show 
this  sort  of  proclivity,  and  the  end  of  it  all  is 
failure.  It  is  not  once  in  a  thousand  times  that 
success  is  achieved.  Bring  him  up  to  any  pro- 
fession but  mine."  She  asked  him  at  least  to 
gratify  a  mother's  natural  pride  by  looking  at 
some  of  her  darling's  sketches.  When  he  saw 
them  he  exclaimed  rapturously:  "It  is  your 
duty,  by  all  means,  Mrs.  Millais,  to  encourage 
this  boy  in  every  way.  He  is  a  marvel  ! "  The 
result  was  that  he  was  sent  to  the  finest  schools 
of  art,  and  when  the  prize  for  the  best  historical 
drawing  in  pencil  was  awarded  at  one  of  the 
Royal  Academy  Assemblies  the  name  of  "  Mr. 
Millais  "  was  called.  As  a  child  in  frocks  was 
presented,  the  Duke  of  Sussex,  who  was  in  the 
chair,  said  in  amazement :  "  Is  this  '  Mister  Mil- 
lais'? Put  him  on  the  table!"  And  standing 
there  he  received  his  prize. 


LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 

PLAYED  BY 

MR.  LESTER  WALLACK 


ADVOCATE Felix  Dubois 

"  Harry  Ringdove 

ALL  FOR  HER Hugh  Trevor 

ALMA  MATER Count  Pave 

AMERICANS  IN  PARIS Arthur  Morris 

ANGEL  IN  THE  ATTIC Michael  Magnus 

APPEAL  TO  THE  PUBLIC Felix  Rosemary 

ASMODEUS  (LITTLE  DEVIL) Don  Rafael 

As  You  LIKE  IT Orlando 

AT  LAST John  Garlan 

AWKWARD  ARRIVAL Ormonde 

BACHELOR  OF  ARTS Harry  Jasper 

BARBER  BRAVO Girolamo 

215 


216  List  of  Characters. 


BARRICK  ROOM Colonel Ferrier 

BELLE'S  STRATAGEM Courtall 

"  "  Doricourt 

"  "  Flutter 

BIRTH Jack  Randall 

BLEAK   HOUSE The  Debilitated  Cousin 

BLUE  AND  CHERRY Lord  Alfred  Dorset 

BOARDING  SCHOOI Lieutenant  Varley 

BOLD  DRAGOON Leon  Sabertash 

BOLD  STROKE  FOR  A  HUSBAND Don  Julio 

BOSOM  FRIENDS Mr.  Union 

BRIGAND Massaroni 

BROKER  OF  BOGOTA Antonio  de  Cabarero 

BUSY  BODY Marplot 

"         "         Sir  George  Airey 

CAPRICE Sir  Edward  Mordaunt 

CAPTAIN  BLAND Captain  Bland 

CAPTAIN  OF  THE  WATCH de  Ligny 

CAUGHT  IN  A  TRAP    ......  Marquis  D1  Arblay 

CENTRAL  PARK Wyndham  Otis 

CHARLES  THE  SECOND Rochester 

CHILD  OF  THE  STATE Gros  Rene 

CHRISTMAS  DINNER Savage  Hunter 

CLANDESTINE  MARRIAGE Brush 

CLARISSE Martial 

COLONEL  IV.   W.  Woodd 


List  of  Characters.  217 


COMPACT Juan  Ravages 

CONNUBIAL  BLISS  ASSOCIATION Filigree 

COOL  AS  A  CUCUMBER Horatio  Plummer 

CRITIC Puff 

CURE  FOR  THE  HEARTACHE Young  Rapid 

DAVID  COPPERFIELD Steerforth 

DAY  AFTER  THE  WEDDING     ....  Colonel  Freeloi'e 

DEAR  COUSIN  WALTER Walter  Hazleton 

DECIDED  CASE 'Captain  Dudley  Vere 

DELICATE  GROUND Alphonse  de  Grandier 

"  "  Citizen  Sangfroid 

DIPLOMACY Harry  Beaiiclerc 

DON  OESAR  DE  BAZAN  ....  Don  Ccesar  de  Bazan 

DRAMATIST Floriville 

DUKE  HUMPHREY'S  DINNER    .    .    .    Richard  Burdon 

DUMB  BELLE Vivian 

EDUCATION Vincent 

ELDER  BROTHER Eustace 

ELOPEMENTS  IN  HIGH  LIFE Hugh  Travers 

ENGLISHMAN  IN  INDIA Tom  Tape 

ERNESTINE Frederick 

ETON  BOY Captain  Popham 

EVERY  BODY'S  FRIEND Felix  Feathcrly 

"  "         Twistleton 

EVERY  ONE  HAS  His  FAULT   .    .  Sir  Robert  Bramble 
FAINT  HEART  NEVER  WON  FAIR  LADY    .  Ruy  Gomez 


218  List  of  Characters. 


FASHION Colonel  Howard 

"          Jolimaitre 

FAST  MEN  OF  THE  OLDEN  TIME    ....     Rochester 

FIRST  IMPRESSIONS      Peveril 

FIVE  HUNDRED  POUNDS  REWARD  .  Valentine  Honey  ball 

FOLLIES  OF  A  NIGHT Duke  de  Chartres 

"  "         Pierre  Palliot 

FOUR  MOUSQUETAIRES d'Artagnaii 

Fox  CHASE Tom  Waddy 

FRANKENSTEIN Frankenstein 

GAME  OF  LIFE Rupert  Wolfe 

GAME  OF  LOVE Paul  Weldon 

GAMESTER Lewson 

GIRALDA King  Philip 

GOING  TO  THE  BAD       Hardingham 

GOOD  FELLOW Umbraton 

HAMLET Horatio 

"          Laertes 

Osric 

HEADS  OR  TAILS Dyecaster 

HEARTS  ARE  TRUMPS Count  Wagstaff 

HEARTS  AT  FAULT Captain  Hawk 

HEIR  AT  LAW Dick  Dowlas 

HENRIETTE Emit  Lefcvre 

HENRY  THE  FOURTH Prince  of  Wales 

His  LAST  LEGS  .  . 


List  of  Characters.  219 


HOME Colonel  White 

HONEY  MOON Duke  Aranza 

"         "         Rolando 

HOPELESS  PASSION Jacques  Pamela 

How  SHE  LOVES  HIM Tom  Vacil 

How  TO  GROW  RICH Pave 

HUNCHBACK Modus 

HUSBAND  TO  ORDER Pierre  Marceau 

IMPULSE Colonel  Crichton 

INCONSTANT Duretete 

INVISIBLE  HUSBAND Don  Philip 

IRISH  HEIRESS  (WEST  END) Percy  Ardent 

IRON  CHEST Orson 

Wilford 

J.  J's „    „    .    .    .      Mr.  John  J 

JACOBITE Major  Murray 

JEALOUS  WIFE Mr.  Oakley 

JESSIE   BROWN Randall  McGregor 

JOHN  BULL Hon.  Tom  Shuffleton 

JOHN  GARTH John  Garth 

KING  JOHN Faulconbridge 

KING  LEAR Edgar 

Oswald 

KING  OF  THE  COMMONS Mungo  Small 

KING  OF  THE  MOUNTAINS Walter  Harris 

KNIGHTS  OF  THE  ROUND  TABLE  .    .    Captain  Cozzens 


220  List  of  Characters. 


KNIGHTS  OF  THE  ROUND  TABLE   ....  Tom  Tittler 

KNOW  YOUR  OWN  MIND Millamour 

LADIES'  MAN Daffodill  Twad 

LADY  IN  DIFFICULTIES Count  Natzman 

LADY  OF  LYONS Claude  Melnotte 

LADY  OF  ST.  TROPEZ      George  Maurice 

LANCERS Victor  de  Courcy 

LAUGH  WHEN  You  CAN Gossamer 

LEADING  STRINGS Frank  Leveson 

LEAP  YEAR Walker 

LIAR Young  Wilding 

LIKE  AND  UNLIKE Ernest  Bridoux 

LITTLE  DEVIL  (ASMODEUS) Don  Rafael 

LITTLE  TREASURE Walter  Maydenblush 

LONDON  ASSURANCE Charles  Courtley 

"  "  Dazzle 

LOVE  AND  MONEY Lord  Fipley 

LOVE  CHASE Wildrake 

LOVE  FOR  LOVE Valentine 

LOVE  IN  A  MAZE Colonel  Buckthorne 

"  "  Lord  Miniver 

LOVE  KNOT Bernard 

LOVE'S  SACRIFICE St.  Lo 

LUCKY  HIT Chevalier  Vibrac 

MACBETH Macduff 

MAGIC  MARRIAGE  .    .    .  Monte  Cellini 


List  of  Characters.  221 


MAIDEN  WIFE Ernest  Devereux 

MAN  AND  WIFE Charles  Austencourt 

MANIFEST  DESTINY Jack  Mutable 

MAN  OF  HONOR Jacques  de  Sanlieu 

MARRIAGE  A  LOTTERY Waverley 

MARRIED  AN  ACTRESS Frederick  Plume 

MARRIED  BACHELOR Sir  Charles  Courtall 

MARRIED  IN  HASTE Gibson  Greene 

MARRIED  LIFE Lionel  Lynx 

"  "  Mr.  Younghusband 

MARRIED  RAKE Flightly 

MEN  OF  THE  DAY Frank  Hawthorne 

MERCHANT  OF  VENICE Bassanio 

"  "  "  Gratiano 

MIMI King  Charles  II. 

MODEL  HYPOCRITE La  Touche 

MONEY Alfred  Evelyn 

"  Sir  Frederick  Blotint 

MONTE-CRISTO Edmund  Dantes 

MORNING  CALL Sir  Edward  Ardent 

MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING Benedick 

"  "  "  "  ....  Don  Pedro 

MY  AUNT Dick  Dashall 

MY  AWFUL  DAD Adonis  Evergreen 

MY  COUSIN  GERMAN Albert  Ehrenstein 

MY  FRIEND  IN  THE  STRAPS O'Blarney 


222  List  of  Characters. 


MY  LITTLE  ADOPTED Frederick  Somers 

MY  MASTER'S  RIVAL Peter  Shack 

MY  NOBLE  SON-IN-LAW     .    .    .   Lord  Herbert  de  Vere 
NAVAL  ENGAGEMENTS  .    .  Lieutenant  Kingston,  R.  N. 

NERVOUS  MAN McShane 

NEW  PARK John  Brown 

NEW  PRESIDENT De  la  Rampe 

NIGHT  AND  MORNING Philip  Morton 

NOTHING  VENTURE  NOTHING  WIN  .    .    .   De  Launay 

NOT  So  BAD  AS  WE  SEEM Lord  Wiltnot 

OLD  ENGLISH  GENTLEMAN Horace 

OLD  HEADS  AND  YOUNG  HEADS  .    .    .   Littleton  Coke 

OLD  LOVE  AND  THE  NEW Courttown 

OTHELLO Cassia 

OURS Hugh  Chalcote 

OVERLAND  ROUTE Tom  Dexter 

PATRICIAN  AND  PARVENU Dick  Moonshine 

PAULINE      Horace  de  Beuzeval 

PAUL  PRY Harry  Stanley 

PERFECTION Charles  Paragon 

PLAYING  WITH  FIRE      Dr.  Savage 

POOR  GENTLEMAN Frederick  Bramble 

POOR  OF  NEW  YORK. .  Badger 

PRIMA  DONNA Rouble 

PRISON  AND  PALACE Alexis  Romanoff 

PROMOTION Colonel  Delagarde 


List  of  Characters.  223 


(   Frank  Rochford 

PURE  GOLD \ 

Lancia 

QUEEN'S  HUSBAND Don  Manuel 

RECRUITING  OFFICER Captain  Brazen 

REGULAR  Fix Hugh  de  Brass 

RENT  DAY Toby  Heywood 

RICHARD  THE  THIRD Richmond 

"  "         "  Tressel 

RICHELIEU      De  Berrenghen 

RIGHTS  AND  WRONGS  OF  WOMEN.  Sir  Brian  de  Beausex 

RIGHTS  OF  MAN Arthur  Elsmere 

RIVALS Captain  Absolute 

ROAD  TO  RUIN Harry  Dornton 

ROBERT  MACAIRE Robert  Macaire 

ROLAND  FOR  AN  OLIVER Alfred  Highflyer 

ROMANCE  AND  REALITY Frank  Meredith 

ROMANCE  OF  A  POOR  YOUNG  MAN     ....  Manuel 

ROMEO  AND  JULIET Mercutio 

ROSEDALE Elliot  Grey 

ROYALIST Henri  de  Flavigneul 

RULE  A  WIFE  AND  HAVE  A  WIFE Leon 

"  "          "          "          .    .  Michael  Perez 

RULING  PASSION Tom  Dexter 

RURAL  FELICITY Singleton  Unit 

SAVILLE  OF  HAYSTED Ned  Thirretl 

SCAN.  MAG Edward  Singleton 


224  List  of  Characters. 


SCHOOL Jack  Poynlz 

SCHOOL  FOR  SCANDAL  .......  Charles  Surface 

"  "  "  ....  Sir  Benjamin  Backbite 

SCHOOL  OF  REFORM Ferment 

SCRAP  OF  PAPER Prosper  Couramont 

SECRETS  WORTH  KNOWING Rostrum 

SERIOUS  FAMILY Charles  Torrens 

"  "  Murphy  Maguire 

SHE  STOOPS  TO  CONQUER Young  Marlow 

SHE  WOULD  AND  SHE  WOULD  NOT  .  .  Don  Octavio 
SHE  WOULD  BE  A  SOLDIER  .  .  .  Captain  Pendragon 
SHORT  REIGN  AND  A  MERRY  ONE  .  Chevalier  Romayne 

SIMPSON  AND  Co Mr.  Bromley 

SISTERS Ernest  Bridveux 

SKETCHES  IN  INDIA Tom  Tape 

SOLDIER'S  COURTSHIP Colonel  Gayton 

SOLDIER'S  DAUGHTER Frank  Heartall 

SPEED  THE  PLOUGH Bob  Handy 

SPELL  BOUND Raoul de  Beaupirre 

SPRING  AND  AUTUMN Rattle 

STATE  PRISONER Lord  Henry  Harvey 

STRANGER The  Stranger 

TEACHER  TAUGHT Henry  Aubrey 

TEMPER Hugh  Emerson 

THREE  GUARDSMEN d'Artagnan 

TIME  WORKS  WONDERS  .  Felix  Goldthumb 


List  of  Characters.  225 


TIT  FOR  TAT Fred.  Tlwrnbiiry 

To  MARRY  OR  NOT  To  MARRY.   Sir  Oswin  Mortland 

TORTESA Angela 

TOWN  AND  COUNTRY Plastic 

"          Reuben  Glenroy 

TRUMPETER'S  DAUGHTER Philipot 

TRYING  IT  ON Walsingham  Potts 

TWELFTH  NIGHT Agnecheek 

"         "  Orsino 

TWELVE  LABORS  OF  HERCULES  ....   De  Marillac 

Chester  Delafield 

TWINS | 

I        Mark  Delafield 

Two  BONNYCASTLES John  James  Johnson 

Two  CAN  PLAY  AT  THAT  GAME  .    .    .     Howard  Leslie 

Two  TO  ONE De  Rameau 

USED  UP Sir  Charles  Coldstream 

VALERIE Walter  Trevillian 

VALET  DE  SHAM Trivett 

VENUS  IN  ARMS Dashall 

VETERAN Leon  Delmar 

VICAR  OF  WAKEFIELD      Mr.  Burchell 

VICTORINE Alexandre 

VIRGINIUS Icilius 

WANTED  A  WIDOW Harry  Revel 

WARWICK Edward  IV. 

WAY  TO  GET  MARRIED Tangent 


226  List  of  Characters. 


WEKDS  AMONG  FLOWERS Crawley  Webb 

WERNER Ulric 

WEST  END  (IRISH  HEIRESS) Percy  Ardent 

WHEAT  AND  CHAFF Arthur  Beaufort 

WHEEL  OF  FORTUNE Sydenham 

WHO  Do  You  TAKE  ME  FOR?    .    .    Terence  O'Reilly 

WHO  SPEAKS  FIRST Captain  Charles 

WHO  WANTS  A  GUINEA  .    .    .   Sir  Larry  McMurragh 

WIFE     ,. Julian  St.  Pierre 

"         Leonardo 

WILD  OATS Rover 

WILL Howard 

WIVES  AS  THEY  WERE Bronzely 

WONDER Colonel  Briton 

"          Don  Felix 

WOODCOCK'S  LITTLE  GAME Woodcock 

WRECK  ASHORE Captain  Grampus 

YOUNG  QUAKER Young  Sadboy 


INDEX. 


A  Becket,  Gilbert,  172. 
Abingdon,  A.  J.  A.?  40. 
Alfree,  Mr.,  34. 
Amesbury,  Dr.,  204. 
Anderson,  James,  137. 
Andrews,  George,  137. 
Astley,  Phillip,  i. 

Bancker,  Mrs.,  2. 

Bannister,  John,  8. 

Barnay,  Ludwig,  73-75. 

Barrett,  George  H.,  133,  137. 

Barrett,  Lawrence,  27. 

Barry,  Richard,  51-52. 

Beaufort,  Duchess  of,  201-202. 

Beaufort,  Duke  of,  198-202. 

Beazley,  S.,  107. 

Beckett,  Harry,  23,  73. 

Bellew,  Kyrle,  174. 

Bianconi,  44-47. 

Black,  Mrs.,  134. 

Blake,  William  R.,  137-144,  147, 

151,  160,  161,  173,  206. 
Bland,  Humphrey,  156. 
Bonaparte,  Napoleon,  200. 
Boothby,  Lady.    See  Mrs.  Nis- 

bett. 
Booth,  Edwin,  27. 


Booth,  Junius  Brutus,  8. 
Boucicault,  Dion,  63,  79, 156, 174, 

176,  177. 

Boucicault,  Mrs.,  156,  170. 
Brindal,  Mr.,  170. 
Brooke,  G.  V.,  57-61. 
Brougham,  John,  13,  58, 106, 144- 

145,  147-150,  151,  162,  177,  186, 

198. 

Brown,  Dr.  John,  4. 
Buckstone,  J.  B.,  79,  165. 
Bulwer-Lytton,  57,  116,  122-124, 

175,  184. 

Bunn,  Alfred,  96. 
Burdett-Coutts,  Baroness,  96-97. 
Burton,  William  E.,  13,  100-103, 

108,  120,  145,  154-157. 
Byron,  Henry  J.,  122. 

Calcraft,  J.   W.   (J.    W.   Cole), 

52-54,  183. 
Cerito,  107. 

Chanfrau,  Frank  S.,  105. 
Gibber,  Colley,  8r. 
Clarke,  Corson  W.,  117. 
Cleveland,  Duke  of,  42. 
Coghlan,  Rose,  28, 
Cole,  J.  W.  (J.  W.  Calcraft),  96. 


227 


228 


Index. 


Colman,  George  (Younger),  33. 
Conner,  Edmon  S.,  36. 
Comvay,  Frederick  B.,  192-194. 
Conway,  Mrs.  F.  B.,  153. 
Cooke,  George  Frederick,  8. 
Cooper,  Sir  Astley,  203. 
Couldock,  C.  W.^  161. 
Coutts,  Harriet.    See  Miss  Mel- 
lon. 

Cumberland,  Duke  of,  205. 
Curtis,  George  William,  208-209. 
Cushman,  Charlotte,  75-77. 
Cushman,  Susan,  75-76. 

Davenport,  A.  H.,  63,  64. 
Davenport,  Edwin  L.,  23. 
Davenport,  Lizzie  Weston.  See 

Mrs.  Charles  J.  Mathews. 
Davidge,  William,  195. 
Davis,  Bancroft,  159-160. 
De  Begnis,  Guiseppe,  108-115. 
Dickens,  Charles,  172. 
Don,  Sir  Alexander  N.,  41. 
Don,  Sir  William,  41-48. 
Dowton,  W.,  loo. 
Drew,  Mrs.  John,  184. 
Dumas,  Alex.  (Elder),  13,  137. 
Dunn,  James,  13. 
Dyott,  John,  141,  156. 

Edwards,  Henry,  VI,  23,  28,  60. 
Elizabeth,  Queen,  82. 
Elliston,  William,  7,  8,  82-89. 
Elssler,  Fanny,  107. 
Eytinge,  Rose,  23. 

Farren,  William,  77,  79,  174-175, 

178-180. 
Faucit,    Helen    (Lady    Martin), 

56-57-  58,  127,  129. 


Faucit,  Mrs.,  57. 

Fawcett,  John,  8,  39. 

Field,  Allan  (Lester  Wallack), 
36. 

Field,  Elizabeth.  See  Mrs. Will- 
iam Wallack. 

Fisher,  Charles,  23,  155-156. 

Florence,  William  J  ,  28. 

Floyd,  William  R.,  24,  69. 

Forrest,   Edwin,   12,  60-61,   129, 

I3L  137- 
Fredericks,  W.  S.,  131-132,  138. 

Gannon,  Mary,  18,  24,  150. 

Garrick,  David,  i,  80. 

George  IV.,  82,  83. 

Germon,  Effie,  18. 

Gilbert,    John,    VI,    13,    23,  27, 

69,  173.  183. 
Glover,  Edward,  195. 
Glover,  Mrs.,  179-180,  195. 
Goffe,  Mr.,  192-194. 
Granger,  Dr.,  2. 
Granger,  Mrs.  See  Mrs.  William 

Wallack. 
Grisi,  Carlotta,  107-108. 

Hackett,  James  H.,  194-196. 

Hadaway,  Thomas,  138. 

Hamblin,  Thomas,  115-121. 

Hamblin,  Mrs.  Thomas  (Miss 
Medina),  116-120. 

Hamblin,  Mrs.  Thomas  (Mrs. 
Shaw),  120,  121. 

Hamblin,  Thomas,  Jr.,  120,  121. 

Harland,  Julia.  See  Julia  Wal- 
lack. 

Hearn,  Judge,  196. 

Hearn,  Pat,  196-198. 

Henriques,  Madeline,  18,  155. 


Index. 


229 


Hill,  Mrs.    See  Mary  Wallack. 

Hind,  Thomas  J.,  141-143. 

Horlson,  Georgiana,  147-150, 151. 

Hoey,  John,  153. 

Hoey,  Mrs.  John  (Mrs.  Russell), 
18,  24,  144,  153-155- 

Holland,  George,  18,  23,  156. 

Home,  John,  33,  92. 

Hook,  Theodore,  172,  199. 

Horncastle,  W.,  105,  106. 

Horton,  Priscilla  (Mrs.  German 
Reed),  78. 

Hoskin,  W.,4. 

Hoskin,  Mrs.  W.  See  Julia  Wal- 
lack. 

Hudson,  Mr.  ("Irish  Hudson"), 
79,  1 80. 

Hunt,  Henry,  184-185. 

Incledon,  B.  C.,  8. 
Ireland,    Joseph     Norton,     VI, 
2-3- 

James  II.,  188. 

Jefferson,  Joseph,  28,  159-165. 

Jerrold,  Douglas,  97-98. 

Johnstone,  John,  8. 

Johnstone,  Susan.     See  Mrs.  J. 

W.  Wallack. 
Johnston,  Thos.,  144. 
Jones,  Mrs.  (Miss  Granger),  2. 
Jones,  Richard,  39. 
Jordan,  Dora,  2,  8. 
Jordan,  George,  144. 

Kean,  Charles,  91-98. 

Kean ,  Mrs.  Charles  ( Ellen  Tree) , 

96-97. 
Kean,  Edmund,  8,  59,  83,  92,  95, 

97,  zoo,  127. 


Kean,  Mrs.  Edmund,  92,  95. 
Keene,  Laura,  18,  151-153,  159- 

162. 

Kellogg,  Gertrude,  28. 
Kelly,  Robert,  176. 
Kemble,  Charles,  7,  39. 
Kemble,  John  Phillip,  8. 
Knowles,  James  Sheridan,  154. 

Lamb,  Charles,  172. 

Langdon,  Mrs.,  129. 

Leffler,  Mr.,  50-51. 

Lester,  J.  Wallack.    See  Lester 

Wallack. 

Levick,  Milnes,  28. 
Listen,  John,  8. 
Lover,  Samuel,  187-191. 
Lutz,  Mr.,  151. 
Lyster,  Frederick,  148-149. 
Lytton-Bulwer,  57,  116,  122-124, 

175,  184. 

Macready,  William  C.,  8,  57,  83- 

84,  97,  122-132,  166. 
Majoribanks,  Mr.,  42. 
Mann,  Alvah,  134,  138, 
Marks,  Mr.,  130-131. 
Martin,  Lady.  Sec  Helen  Faucit. 
Martin,  M.,  89-91. 
Mathews,  Charles,  8. 
Mathews,  Charles  James,  23,  61- 

74,  77-79-  l65.  I72-I73.  I77- 
Mathews,    Mrs.  C.  J.  (Madame 

Vestris),  62,  78,  201-202. 
Mathews,  Mrs.  C.  J.  (Lizzie  Wes- 

ton  —  Mrs.  A.  H.  Davenport), 

63-65,  72. 
Mayo,  Frank,  27. 
Medina,    Miss     (Mrs.     Thomas 

Hamblin)    116-120. 


230 


Index. 


Melbourne,  Lord,  192. 

Mellon,  Harriet  (Duchess  of  St. 

Albans),  8,  95-96. 
Mestayer,  Emily,  23. 
Meyers,  Mr.,  151-152. 
Millais,  Mrs.,  210-213. 
Millais,  Sir  John  E.,  210-213. 
Missouri,  Louisa,  116-120. 
Mitchell,  William,  103-106. 
Modjeska,  Helen,  28. 
Montague,  Henry  J.,  23,  174. 
Moorhouse,   Mrs.   Charles.    See 

Fanny  Wallack. 
Mordaunt,  Plessy,  69. 
Moreau,  Charles  C.,  VI. 
Morrison,  Mr.,  49-50. 
Moss,  Theodore,  18. 
Mowatt,  Anna  Cora,  12,  197. 
Murdoch,  James  E.,  12. 

Napoleon  Bonaparte,  200. 
Nisbett,   Mrs.   (Lady  Boothby), 
176,  1 80. 

Payne,  John  Howard,  39. 
Peters,  Charles,  161. 
Phillips,  H.  B.,  185-186. 
Pincott,     Mrs.      See     Elizabeth 

Wallack. 

Placide,  Henry,  18,  156-159. 
Placide,  Thomas,  141,  159. 
Plimpton,  Eben,  27. 
Polk,  Joseph  B.,  23. 
Pollock,  Sir  Frederick,  126. 
Ponisi,  Mme.,  27. 
Poole,  Mr.,  174. 
Power,  Maurice,  191. 
Power,  Tyrone,  191. 
Power,  Mrs.  Tyrone,  191. 
Power,  William  Tyrone,  192. 


Price,  Stephen,  91-92. 
Priichard,  Mrs.,  80. 
Purdy,  Alexander  H.,  3. 

Reade,  Charles,  156. 

Reed,    Mrs.    German    (Priscilla 

Horton),  78. 

Reynolds,  William  J.,  156. 
Richmond,  Duke  of,  191. 
Robertson,    Agnes.     See    Mrs. 

Dion  Boucicault. 
Robertson,  Tom,  169-170. 
Robinson,  Frederick,  23. 
Robinson,    William    Duer,   207, 

209. 

Rogers,  Major,  145-147. 
Rossini,  108. 

Roubillac,  Leon  Francois,  40. 
Russell,  Mrs.    See  Mrs.  Hoey. 

Salvini,  T.,  61. 
Scarlett,  Sir  James,  47-48. 
Seguin,  Edward,  in. 
Shakspere,  40,  56,  160,  169. 
Shaw,  Mrs.    See  Mrs.  Thomas 

Hamblin. 

Slice,  Sir  Martin,  210-213 
Sheridan,  Richard  B.,  151,  169, 

183. 

Shirreff,  Jane,  in. 
Siddons,  Sarah,  8. 
Simpson,  Edmund,  7. 
Simpson,  Mrs.  Edmund,  2. 
Sloane,  John,  76,  186-187,  197. 
Smith,  Mark,  23. 
Sothern,  Edward  A.,  18,  156,  160- 

165- 
St.    Albans,    Duchess    of.     See 

Harriet  Mellon. 
St.  Albans,  Duke  of,  95. 
Stanfield,  Clarkson,  107. 


Index. 


231 


Stanley,  Mrs.  See  Mary  Wai- 
lack. 

Stebbins,  Henry  G.,  120. 

Stevens,  Sara,  161. 

Stewart,  Douglas.  See  E.  A. 
Sothern. 

Stewart,  Mr.,  180. 

Stoddart,  James  H.,  69,  156. 

Stuart,  Charles  Edward,  205. 

Stuart,  James  Edward  Francis, 
80. 

Stultz,  Mr.,  174. 

Sussex,  Duke  of,  213. 

Sutton,  Sir  Richard,  202-205. 

Taglioni,  Marie,  107. 
Taylor,  Douglas,  12. 
Taylor,  Tom,  18,  159-160. 
Thackeray,  William  M.,  172,205- 

209. 

Thompson,  Lysander,  155-156. 
Tree,  Ellen.    See   Mrs.   Charles 

Kean. 

Vanamburgh,  Isaac,  89. 
Vandenhoff,  Charlotte,  104. 
Vandenhoff,    George,    137,   139- 

141,  184. 

Vandenhoff,  John,  104. 
Vernon,  Mrs.,  24,  144,  156. 
Vestris,  Madame  (Mrs.  Charles 

Mathews),  62,  78,  201-202. 
Victoria,  Queen,  53. 

Wainwright,  Bishop,  197. 
Wainwright,  Wadsworth,  197. 
Walcot,  Charles  (Elder),  147-150. 
Wallack,  Charles  E.,  VI. 
Wallack,  Elizabeth,  2. 
Wallack,  Fanny,  3-4,  138. 


Wallack,  Henry,  2-3,  34,  39,  89- 

91. 
Wallack,  James  W.,  2,  4-11,  14, 

18,  21,  33,  35-36,  70,  76,  77,  81- 

82,  87-89,  91,  95,  98,  loo,  103- 

104,  105,  107-120,  122-123,  I27> 

129,  134,  145-147,  150-151,  154- 

166,  197,  198-209,  210. 
Wallack,  Mrs.  James  W.  (Susan 

Johnstone),  8,  36-39. 
Wallack,  James  W.,  Jr.,  3,  13, 

23,  118,  137,  139-141. 
Wallack,  John  Johnstone.     See 

Lester  Wallack. 
Wallack,  Julia,  3-4. 
Wallack,  Lester. 

His  descent,  i-n. 

His  birth,  n. 

Sketch  of  his  life,  11-31. 

His  first  professional  appear- 
ance, 35. 

Hisprofessionalcareerin  Great 
Britain,  35-41,  56-57,  75-79, 

His  first  appearance  in  Amer- 
ica, n,  134. 

His  method  of  study,  166-171. 

His  death,  28. 
Wallack,  Mrs.  Lester,   VI -VII, 

II,  72-73,  167-168,  I7O-I7I,  210. 

Wallack,  Mary,  2. 
Wallack,  William,  1-2. 
Wallack,  Mrs.  William,  1-2. 
Washington,  George,  143. 
Webster,  Benjamin,  77-78,   124, 

133- 

Wellington,  Duke  of,  198-201. 
Weston,  Lizzie.    See  Mrs.  C.  J. 

Mathews. 

Wewitzer,  Ralph,  81-82. 
Wheelock,  Joseph,  27. 


232  Index. 


Wigan,  Alfred.  177.  Winter,  Wilfiam,  VI. 

Wigan,  Mrs.  Alfred,  2.  Wood,  Mrs.  John,  18. 

Wilkie,  Sir  David,  98.  Wrench,  Mr.,  123. 

William  III.,  188.  Wyndham,  Charles,  195. 

Willis,  Nathaniel  P.,  35.  Wyndham,  Mr.,  195. 
Wilson,  John,  in. 

Wilton,  J.  H.,  43.  Young,  Charles,  8. 


THE  DE    VINNE   PRESS. 


OF  r.AUFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 

University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

305  De  Neve  Drive  -  Parking  Lot  17  •  Box  951388 

LOS  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA  90095-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library  from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


UCLA-College  Library 

PN  2287  W15A1 


L  005  769  208  9 


College 
Library 

pw 
2L-87 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


•  IIIIMIII  HIM  Illll  III       Mill  |      II  II    |l  |M    |     l|         III       |     ||| 

A     001  065  527     2 


